A Paragon of Magic
by The Dark Warden
Summary: Shepard finally did it. She had destroyed the Reapers, just as she promised she would. However, things didn't go according to plan. Instead of dying or maybe falling to Earth with the wreckage of the Crucible, she instead finds herself thrown into a life she never lived, facing things that were only fairy tales to her. Join Morgana Lilian Shepard as she takes on a whole new world!
1. Chapter 1

_**((** **AN: IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT! This idea came into my head a few days ago and i couldn't get it out, so here it is. ENJOY!))**_

* * *

 ** _A Paragon of Magic_**

 _Commander Morgana Shepard was dying. Her body was scorched and bloody, her right arm was mangled, the cybernetics Cerberus implanted within her body glowing bright blue as they were revealed. Her Blood Dragon armor was slagged, parts of it fused to her flesh from the Reaper attack just outside the pillar of light that led up to the Reaper-Controlled Citadel. She knew she was dying, she'd felt it before after the original SSV Normandy was destroyed by the Collectors. However, this time her death might mean something. A chance to destroy the Reapers, once and for all. To do what countless cycles before her couldn't and erase those giant metal bugs from the universe so they wouldn't be able to hurt a single soul ever again._

 _Countless individuals had often called Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance a Paragon of Virtue. Always putting the innocent before herself, controlling the hate and anger that built up inside her over the past thirty or so years of her life. From the slaver attack on Mindoir, to the Batarian attack at the Skylian Blitz, to losing Kaiden Alenko on Virmire whilst hunting Saren Arterias, and so on. Always keeping calm and taking the best and least bloody route. Now she had her chance to stop the Reapers, either by becoming one of them and controlling them from the inside, fusing organic and synthetic tissue to bring peace or simply blow the bastards out of the sky. For once, she was going to give into that anger, that hate. And she was going to blast those bastard synthetics to kingdom come._

 _The emerald-eyed commander turned to the hologram of the child that was the Catalyst. It had claimed that destroying the Reapers would destroy all Synthetics across the galaxy. Not just the Reapers, but the Geth and anyone with Synthetic implants would die. However…the hologram had flickered when it had said that. In her experience dealing with psychotic synthetics such as the Reapers, when a holo of them flickered while speaking, they had just lied about something. A feral grin spread across the Spectre's scared and bloody face._ I've got you, you sons-of-bitches. _She thought in the recesses of her mind. She looked down at the hologram that had claimed the Reapers were there to keep Synthetics and Organics from destroying one another repeatedly over the cycles. "Tell me something," she rasped, her throat dry and aching from the battles on the planet below. "In the entirety of the Reapers existence, have the synthetics and organics ever made peace?" She pinned the flickering hologram with a glare that could get a Krogan to back down in an instant. "Or did you not even give them the chance?"_

 _The hologram flicker again and spoke. "The cycle has been the same for countless millennia. Organics create synthetics to serve them, and the created races revolted, causing countless deaths." The Spectre scowled. "Not what I asked you stupid piece of machinery. I asked if they had ever made peace." She smirked as the hologram flickered again, knowing the answer immediately. She raised her mangled arm, pointed to the battle around the Citadel, where the combined might of the Asari, Turians, Krogans, Salarians, Quarians, Humans, Batarians, Vorcha, and Geth were fighting as one to push the Reapers back. And_ winning. _"Look out there. Right now, Synthetics and Organics fight as one to stop you from killing us all. You aren't here to protect us from ourselves, you're here because the Leviathans created you to stop a revolt before it even started and you're still stuck with that single line of programming, that one mission. Well you just lost." The Spectre grinned as she unholstered her Carnifex heavy pistol and began to move toward the red canister that contained the energy to destroy the Reapers. "And by the way, if you are going to lie about something like that, do anything to be better than that."_

 _Morgana limped toward the canister, pulling the trigger again and again, each time the faces of her friends flashing before her eyes. Anderson, Ashely, James, Kasumi, Zaeed, Miranda, Jacob, Steve, Joker, Karen, Kelly, Garrus, Grunt, Wrex, Thane, Legion, Samara, Mordin, Javik, Tali, and Liara. Her sweet Liara. Her wife of three weeks. Tears pricked her eyes even as a small smile graced her scraped and bloody face._ This is for you Liara. You and our daughter. Raise her well and be happy... for me. _Morgana Shepard pulled the trigger one last time, and the world exploded with crimson light._

* * *

Emerald eyes snap open as the Commander's body pulses with a dull pain. Confusion flared past the pain. _I should be feeling anything, much less be awake…and this doesn't feel like pain from an explosion…more like getting sucker-punched by a very angry Krogan._ The commander looked at her surroundings, trying to get a fix on her location in the low lighting. It appeared as though she was currently in a small room possibly under some stairs. _Odd. Why am I under stairs? This doesn't make any sense…_ The commander patted her body to check for injuries but stopped within a few moments. Her body felt…wrong. Smaller than it should have been and with none of the muscle mass she had built up over her years of military service. Not to mention that the wounds from the Reaper attack seemed to be gone, replaced by mid-level bruising and a possibly dislocated shoulder.

Looking around, Morgana spotted what appeared to be a 21st century pull lamp hanging above her head. Reaching up with a hand far to small for her age, she pulled the cord, her eyes narrowing for a moment as the bright light blinded her emerald eyes for a split second. She looked around at the cupboard she was in. She sat upon a small cot with a quilted blanket that needed either repair or replacement, the cot itself taking up a majority of the cupboard she resided in. At the end of the cot was a shelf, upon which was a collection of small toy soldiers; old British Redcoats from the American Revolution if she wasn't mistaken; with their weapons at the ready. Above that shelf was another covered with thick books that had obviously been read quite often from the state of the spines. However, it was the reflecting surface on the far right of the top shelf that caught her emerald gaze. A mirror. Reaching out, Shepard took the mirror and turned the reflective surface toward herself. What she saw knocked the wind out of her lungs.

Gone was the scarred and beaten face of a seasoned veteran who had gone through hell and high water. Staring back at the Spectre was the face she hadn't seen since she was eight years old. The round and elegant features of an eight-year-old Morgana Lillian Shepard stared with wide eyes at the girl holding the mirror. Shoulder-length crimson hair sat above almost elf-like emerald eyes. A cute button nose, soft lips and strong jaw sat upon her face, bringing tears to the Spectre's eyes. She hadn't seen herself as a child since just before the slaver raid on Mindoir. Morgana touched her face all over, trying to understand how such a transformation was even possible, when pain exploded behind her eyes, causing her to cry out and drop the mirror upon the bed spread.

With a sensation not unlike the Prothean beacons on Eden Prime and Virmire, a life she hadn't lived flashed before her eyes. Her mother and father smiling at her from her spot in a white crib, a woman screaming, a high-cold laughter that reminded her of Kai Leng's laugh and that ass Harkon's fused into one, a flash of green light, the sensation a being struck in the head with a crowbar, being picked up by something- no _someone_ \- massive, a fat boy that reminded her of a baby Krogan pushing her about, a horse-like woman screaming at her, calling her a freak, a man that looked extraordinarily like a walrus turning an impressive shade of purple as he screamed at her while beating her with a belt. That explained the bruising. Name began to attach themselves to the images. Her mother and father, Lily and James. The baby Krogan boy was Dudley, the horse woman was Petunia, that walrus man was Vernon. Cousin, Aunt, Uncle. Dursley. Her own youthful face stopped behind her eyes and a name attached itself to her face. Morgana Lily Potter.

The pain thumping in her skull slowly began to subside, leaving the former-Spectre gasping for breath on the mattress. After what felt like an eternity of being unable to breath, Morgana finally caught her breath and pushed herself up from the mattress. Her mind was racing a thousand light-years a second, how was this even possible. She was supposed to be dead from the explosion of Dark Energy from Project Crucible, not de-aged and shot backwards through time to live a life she never had. _Dark Energy…oh no…_ The young girl jolted as a thought came to mind. Raising her hand, Morgana searched for the familiar tingle of her Biotics. She sighed in relief as the tingle sprung forth, her hand engulfed in purple-black energy. _At least I still have that,_ thought Morgana. She smirked as she remembered that apparently her…relatives were a bit abusive. _Oh I'm going to have a ball with this. Now all I need is my Omni-Tool, my weapons and my armor and I'll be good to go… provided that I grow up again and build up some muscle. No time like that present._ She let her biotics fade away just as the door to the cupboard was yanked open, and a great meaty hand grabbed her by the arm.

 ** _Vernon_**

Vernon Dursley yanked his freak of a niece out of her cupboard, throwing her down the hall into the living room, ignoring her yelp of surprise and pain as she landed harshly on her right arm. The little freak had neglected to do the morning chores before everyone was up. And since it was his son's birthday, he'd have to teach the brat a lesson. However, he was quite surprised when the red-haired girl rolled with the impact and sprung to her feet with the grace of one of those jungle cats he'd seen on the telly. What surprised him more was the intense look of rage in her emerald eyes, a look he had never seen on her face before. For whatever reason, his blood turned cold at the burning rage in her eyes, for it was a glare that promised pain and suffering. Shaking himself, the large man strode over to her, plucking up his courage as he reminded himself that even if she was acting differently, she was still much smaller than himself.

"So little freak, you thought you could skip Dudley's birthday, did you? Well it seems as though you need another lesson." Said Vernon as he swung his and to strike her across the face. However, his anger was replaced by shock as the diminutive girl's good arm lashed out and latched onto his own with a steel grip. The strength of her arm was so intense and so sudden that it forced Vernon to his knees right then and there. The overweight man glared at her with as much hate as he could, however that hate was instantly replaced by fear as his niece's body became wreathed in purple-black energy. She opened her mouth and spoke with the authority and determination of a seasoned soldier, not an eight-year-old child who had been beaten down continuously for years.

"If you **EVER** strike me again, _Uncle_ ," She hissed the word as though it was a curse. "I will break every bone in your body. I am **_NOT_** your slave, I am your niece. And from here on out, you will treat me as such or so help me I will show you the true meaning of pain. Do you understand me?" The girl narrowed her emerald eyes at Vernon even as the purple-black energy pouring off of her increased in volume, a burning sensation settling deep within his bones. Out of fear, Vernon Dursley nodded quickly in agreement, causing the little freak to release him and the purple-black energy pouring off of her to recede. Turning on her heel just as a soldier would, she turned and headed back to her cupboard. Vernon pushed himself up and watched from the living room as the girl cleared out her cupboard and began to carry her possessions up the stairs. Before today, if she had tried that, she would have been beaten within an inch of her life. But now, he would let her do as she would. After all, Vernon Dursley was many things, but suicidal was not one of them.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

 _ **Three Years Later – The Letter**_

Three years had passed since Commander Morgana Shepard had been sent back from the year 2186 to the year 1988. Since then she had set down a very clear rule in the Dursley household. She was not their slave. She would not suffer at their hands any longer than her new memories had told her. She and Dudley had long since settled the dispute about his spare room, which of course meant he had tried forcing her out and she had promptly broken his nose for his troubles. It seemed that while her muscle mass had been gone, her training was still there, so it had been a simple matter to avoid his clumsy blows and give him a round house kick to his face. Since that day, he had given the former-Spectre a wide berth, both at home and at school. Morgana had suffered through school once before, from elementary to high school before the raid on Mindoir so she knew how to handle it. Over the last three years, Morgana had trained and exercised everyday with the goal of regaining a semblance of her former physique, at least in comparison to her current eleven-year-old form. Then of course there was the odd moment when some oddly dressed individual would yelp and rush over to bow or shake her hand as she entered a shop or walked down the street all while thanking her for some unknown reason.

* * *

Today was June 23rd, Dudley's eleventh birthday, and the Dursley's were heading to the London Zoo. They had planned to leave Morgana behind with the local cat lady Mrs. Figg, even though Morgana was mentally about forty years old, and hence could take care of herself. Frankly, Morgana wouldn't have minded. Mrs. Figg was nice, even though the young girl suspected that the odd woman was hiding something. Unfortunately, it seemed as though fate had other plans. Mrs. Figg had called to inform the Dursley's that she was quite sick and couldn't watch the former Spectre. So there Morgana sat staring out the window whilst Dudley chatted excitedly with his friend Piers Polkiss, whom Morgana thought looked a bit like a rat or a weasel. He had always followed Dudley's lead which meant avoiding the supposedly demented Potter girl. Shepard didn't mind all that much, since she was using the ride to the zoo as a chance to wonder at the fates of Liara and her daughter. Were they alright? What was her daughter's name, what did she like to do for fun or for work? Thoughts such as those had often crossed Shepard's mind over the past three years. She shook her head to clear it as billboards advertising the zoo began to slip by. No time for that, Shepard. Just keep moving forward.

They arrived at the zoo with little incident, with Petunia going to buy Dudley and Piers ice cream before they headed inside. Morgana simply watched them with a small sense of revulsion as the Krogan youngling and the ferret stuffed their faces with the frozen treats, not even bothering to close their mouths while they ate. Morgana simply shoved her hands into the black hoodie she was wearing and began to check her surroundings. The war with the Reaper's had left her paranoid. However, that paranoia usually paid off, such as today. On her second look-about, she spotted a tall, stern-looking woman with black hair drawn into a tight bun, wearing dark green attire while her steel grey eyes watched the young Potter girl like a cat watching a bird.

Morgana's emerald eyes narrowed at the woman, shifting her stance subtly whilst calling on her biotics ever so slightly to bring the energy to bare. Anyone not paying attention wouldn't spot it, but the woman staring at the former Spectre took a step back in shock as the energy flared for a split second. To Morgana's surprise, the woman recovered far too quickly for her liking, glaring at the girl as though she had broken some kind of serious rule. Luckily, a quick glance over her shoulder revealed that the Dursley's were heading into the Zoo, and Shepard quickly followed them. There's something off about that woman. I need to keep an eye out for her. She thought as she walked a few steps behind her aunt and uncle.

Within the first thirty minutes of entering the zoo, Morgana was bored out of her mind, and was quickly sinking back into the memories of her life aboard the Normandy SR1 and SR2. She was rudely shaken out of the fond memory of her beating Wrex, Garrus, Tali, Ashley and Kaiden in poker only to have Liara win by a landslide by accident when Dudley shoved past her to the boa constrictor enclose. Growling at the obese boy as she moved to stand beside him, she turned her attention to the snake that was dosing under the sun-lamps. It was rather large, eight feet long and about sixty pounds, cover from nose to tail in the common brown-green and dark brown markings of the boa constrictor. The serpent seemed rather bored, that or was completely unconscious. Morgana was shaken from her musings as Dudley began banging on the glass.

"What's it doing?" asked the fat boy in his trademark whine. Morgana sneered at the boy and opened her mouth to speak before the Krogan of a boy began to smack the glass again while turning to his father. "Make it move!" he demanded, glaring at his father. The walrus of a man sighed and rapped on the glass with his knuckles, telling the snake to move, before Dudley struck the glass harder than before and shouted for the serpent to move. At the end of her tether, Morgana snapped her head to the obese son and father and glared at them. "It's asleep, you idiots!" she snapped, causing the pair to jump at her tone. "How would you like it if some giant started knocking on your window while your trying to sleep?" She glared at the pair, emerald eyes almost glowing with anger until they moved off, Dudley muttering something under his breath. Turning back to the enclosure, she sighed before looking back at the snake.

"Sorry about them," she said, feeling a bit odd for talking to a snake. "Dudley was never one for manners, and Uncle Vernon just does whatever he wants. They don't seem to understand what it's like, having people gawk at you day after day, everyone of them talking and knocking on the window." She looked to the snake to see it had raised its head, staring at her attentively as she spoke. Her brow furrowed. "Can…can you hear me?" she asked, feeling a bit stupid for even considering that the snake could hear and understand her. However, to her shock, the snake nodded, causing the Spectre's mouth to drop open. She was about to respond when something smacked into her side and knocked her to the ground. Looking up angrily, she spotted her idiot of a cousin and her ferret-like friend standing where she had, Dudley crying to his father to come see was the snake was doing. He pushed his fat face to the glass to get a better look at the serpent when something in Morgana snapped. There was a pop and the glass was gone and Dudley had fallen in with a splash. The snake slithered out of the enclosure and hit the ground, sliding up to her and looking her in the eye. " _Thanks, Amiga_ ," it hissed before slithering toward the exit, hissing " _Brazil, here I come!_ "

Petunia screaming bloody murder had Morgana's head snapping around to see that the glass had replaced itself, and Dudley was stuck on the other side. A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it and unfortunately the Dursley's heard it. The next few hours were a blur of questions accusations and barely veiled threats. When it all ended, she had been confined to her room after she had informed the Dursley's and the zoo keepers of what had happened and Vernon had gotten extraordinarily anger when she said the glass had vanished like magic. He was hiding something. Nobody got that mad over a simple observation. She didn't listen to the confined to quarters order due to the fact that she knew perfectly well that she had done nothing wrong. She would sneak out at night to continue her exercises and training around the neighborhood, often followed by an unusual tabby cat that refused to leave her alone.

Four weeks later, she was able to move around without having to sneak about once again. It was July 24th and she had opened the door to pick up the mail since she knew all too well that the Dursley's would wait till almost midnight to look and would snap at her for not picking it up before hand, which would of course lead to an altercation that would result in either Dudley or Vernon being bruised or having bloody noses. So, she settled for picking up the mail when it arrived to avoid violence. Usually there were bills, letters from Uncle Vernon's drill company, gardening magazines for Petunia, letters from Vernon's sister Marge and so forth. However, this time there was a much different letter. With yellowing parchment and a wax seal, it looked as though it had been written in the 17th century. The address on it is what truly caught the Spectre's attention.

The address on the envelope read "Ms. M. Potter, The Second Largest Bedroom on the Second Floor, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey" The accuracy of the address meant one thing. She was under surveillance. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowed and head on a swivel as she quickly backed up and slammed the door shut. She placed her back to the door and peeked through the small window on the side just in case whoever was watching her decided to make an appearance. After several minutes of staring out the window with no sign of her stalker, she let out a short breath and walked to the kitchen. The Dursley's were sitting down to eat breakfast before Vernon headed to work and Dudley to school. Morgana set the normal mail down on the table and began to look over the letter addressed to her. Before she had her chance to open it however, a great meaty hand snatched away as Dudley, in a rare show of courage, decided to commit suicide via his cousin. "Dad! Dad! Potter's got a letter!" cried the boy as he bounced out of Morgana's grip just enough to hand the letter to his father. Morgana's hand clamped down on his wrist and squeezed, forcing a cry of pain from the obese boy. The former Spectre pinned the whimpering child with a harsh glare. "Try to take something of mine again, and I'll break your arm, is that understood?" She asked in a low whisper. She didn't wait for his response before turning to her pseudo aunt and uncle, both of whom are staring at the letter in what appeared to be horror.

"Hand it over. Now" She said as she extended her hand. However, Vernon mimicked his son and showed a rare form of courage as he shook his head, stood from his chair and headed into the sitting room. Chasing after him, Morgana rounded the corner just in time to see him throw the letter into the fire. "You idiot!" she cried, running for the fireplace before Vernon blocked her path. "That letter could've told me who sent it, and how they know where I sleep!" She pinned Vernon with her 'I will kill you glare', causing the older man to sweat and fidget. The walrus of a man swallowed before opening his mouth to speak. "It was nothing more than some stupid piece of paper, you didn't need to see it and that the end of it. I've put up with your attitude for three years now and I'm quite done with it. This is MY house, and that means you abide by MY rules, is that clear?" The man was trying to sound intimidating, but due to Shepard's biotics flaring with her anger, it came out as more of a whimper. Spinning on her heel, Shepard headed up the stairs to calm down in the confines of her room, mostly to avoid breaking her twenty-year streak of keeping her temper in check.

Over the next five day, more and more letters arrived for Morgana, all of which Vernon burned, shredded or shredded then burned before she could grab them and open them up. For a fat man, he sure did move quickly when he wanted to. As she had many times over the last three years, Morgana cursed whatever divine force that had thought it was a good idea to make her a kid again. Five days after the first letter, all hell broke loose. Vernon had been gloating about how there was no post on Sundays, when a parcel flew out of the chimney and struck him on the nose. Within moments, the house was filled with parcels and letters from the windows, fireplace, mail slot and chimney, all of which were addressed to one M. Potter. In her rush to grab one of the many letters and Vernon's rush to keep her from snatching the letters, the overweight man struck her from behind. Being much larger than she currently was, even after three years of continuous training and exercise, a blow to the back of the head from someone the size of a Krogan compared to her current ten-year-old form was enough to knock her out cold.

The spray of icy salt-water shocked Morgana awake. Gasping from the sudden cold, she shot to her feet blearily, biotics flaring in preparation for attack, seeing as she didn't have any of her sidearms. However, she was quickly knocked off her feet from the swaying of the ground and a wave of ice water. Spitting and sputtering as she wiped the salt-water from her eyes, the former Spectre looked around, only to see nothing but dark grey skies and choppy seas, the mainland being a good half a mile back. Looking to the head of the dingy the crimson-haired girl was sitting in, she spotted someone who could only be Vernon Dursley in a massive raincoat rowing toward a tiny house upon a tiny island on the coast. Unable to keep her footing due to the tossing and turning of the boat and the constant waves crashing into her, Morgana opted for sitting quietly in the boat to wait until they got inside the house.

Twenty minutes later, they were heading inside, most happy to be out of the rain, but a certain green-eyed girl was stalking behind them, so angry her biotics were turning the water around her to steam. She was silently cursing her current inability to use the more advanced biotic techniques such as Pull, Singularity or Stasis. All three of those techniques would've ended the madness of the letters in a instant, but currently the only biotic skills the former soldier could use where a low-powered Biotic Charge, Flare, Shockwave and Nova, all of which were far too dangerous in confined spaces. Upon entering the house, Morgana walked up and clamped her hand on Vernon's arm with an iron grip.

"What the HELL is wrong with you, Dursley?" she demanded, her trademark purple-black energy pouring off her body as she glared hatefully at the whimpering walrus of a man before her. "Those letters had information in them that could've told me who was watching me and why. Information that could've been useful, but instead you were hell-bent on making sure I didn't open ANY of them!" The girl was getting angrier by the second, made even worse when Uncle Vernon clamped his mouth shut as though it would help him keep from talking. Growling in the back of her throat, Morgana shoved the fat man away from her and walked toward the fireplace, where she set about starting a fire while she attempted to calm herself. Ever since she had woken up under the stairs three years ago, her temper had been closer to the surface, whether from adolescence or something else she didn't know, but it was really starting to piss her off. Without turning around, she said "I want a full sitrep in the morning. No more hiding things, no more dodging questions. You WILL tell me why you're so afraid of those letters or so help me I will throw you into the sea." She turned to the three Dursley's with a burning glare. To the Dursley's, they did not see a child trying to be in command. They saw a veteran soldier, ready and willing to do anything necessary to achieve their goal. And it terrified them. How could an eleven-year-old girl have to experience to move and speak in such a manner? Without waiting for the idiotic pseudo relatives to answer, she instead took the blanket off the moth-eaten sofa and took a place in the corner with her back to the wall, where she had full view of the sitting room. Within moments, the former Spectre was asleep.

* * *

 _ **BOOM BOOM BOOM!**_

Morgana shot up from her place in the corner as something began banging on the door to the small shack with the force of a adrenaline filled Krogan. She rolled to her feet and took cover beside the fireplace, a small Flare orb sitting in the palm of her hand as she readied herself for whatever was on the other side of the door. _**BOOM BOOM BOOM.**_ It sounded again, this time waking Dudley, who despite his size, dove behind the couch rather quickly. A quick glimpse at his watch told her it was five minutes past midnight on July 31st, her new birthday, which made her adolescent form eleven years old now. She shook her head and refocused on the door as the lights at the stairs flicked on and Uncle Vernon came down with a old, double barrel shotgun in hand, Aunt Petunia right behind him.

"Who's there?" The fat man whimpered. A split second later, the door was knocked off it's hinges, falling to the stone floor with a mighty crash. With large, thumping steps the figure beyond the door stepped in. It had to bend to enter through the door and as it rose to it's full height, Morgana let out a silent gasp. The figure stood at least eight feet tall if not more, easily head and shoulders over Garrus, who had been taller than any turian Morgana had ever seen. The figure took two great steps forward into the light, revealing the figure to be a massive man with beady black eyes, a mane of messy hair and an incredible beard. In the back of Morgana's mind, she remembered Anderson had often been jealous of those who could grow beards like that. He was silent for a second before slipping what appeared to be a pink umbrella into his massive coat before speaking.

"Sorry about that" he said in a deep, scratchy voice with a thick Scottish accent that was surprisingly jovial and friendly even as his bushy eyebrows rose in slight embarrassment. He turned and bent over, grabbing the heavy wood door by the top edge and pushing back into place with a BANG. Vernon took his chance to open his fat mouth. "I demand you leave at ounce, sir," her threatened, raising the shotgun toward the large man's face. "You are breaking and entering!" The giant turned toward her pseudo aunt and uncle with a huff and to a single step toward them. "Dry up Dursley, you great prune." He said, grabbing the muzzle of the shotgun and bending the iron barrel upwards, just in time for Vernon to let off both rounds at once and blowing a hole in the ceiling. Morgana looked down at her hand, the Flare slowly fading away as she reabsorbed the biotic energy. If the man was strong enough to bend iron like that, her weak biotic attacks wouldn't do anything to him. She looked up to see the giant man standing no three feet from her, a happy smile plastered to his bearded face as his black eyes twinkled in delight.

"Well, I haven't seen ye since ye was a baby, Morgana, but gosh" his smile turned sad for a moment as a single tear ran down his face. "Ye look so much like yer mother." She blinked and stepped forward, the giant man taking a step back. "Who are you? How do you know my mother?" She asked, looking the man up and down. Up close, he was even larger, especially to her eleven-year-old form. The man gave a small wave with his giant hand as his smile turned bright and happy again. "I've got somethin' for ya. 'Fraid I mighta sat on it at some point, but I imagine it'll taste fine just the same." The former Spectre frowned at him as he reached into the back of his coat and pulled forth a small white box with blue ribbons on it. He handed it to her with a smile, which only grew as she excepted it. The box was indeed a bit squashed, but the smell the wafted from within the box was heavenly. She quickly pulled off the strings and opened it, revealing a chocolate cake with what appeared to be stawberry icing with the words 'Hapee Birthdae Morgana!' in bright green icing. The childish side of her mind squealed at the sight of the tasty treat. As a child, chocolate cake had been her favorite. Her mother had made some every year on her birthday before the slaver raid. She looked up and gave that large man a massive grin. "Thank you!" she said whilst pinching off a piece with her fingers. She knew better than to leave sweets where Dudley could get to them. She put the piece in her mouth and sighed in delight at the deliciousness even as the giant man grinned. It tasted exactly like her mothers, immense amounts of liquid chocolate with strawberry icing. "It's not every day yer young lady turns eleven now, is it, eh?" He cocked his head with a grin and sat down on the couch next to him, shaking the house ever so slightly as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the pink umbrella again.

Morgana nearly choked on the tasty cake as the man pointed it at the fireplace and WHOOSH, the fireplace was filled with a roaring fire. Setting her cake down on the arm of the couch, Morgana stepped around to stand just to the right of the man and cleared her throat. "Not that I don't appreciate the cake and all, but who are you?" She asked, her eyes flicking to the pink umbrella at the man's side. Without looking at her, the giant man said, "Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." Hagrid turned to her, his grin never fading. "Course, you'll know all about Hogwarts" Morgana frowned at Hagrid. _Hogwarts? Sounds like something Grunt would've come up with while drunk._ Morgana shook her head. "Sorry, never heard of Hogwarts before." Hagrid's smile faded in an instant. "No?" He asked. The girl shook her head, her eyes flicking toward the Dursley's for a split second. They seemed to be growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. Her eyes snapped back to Hagrid as he spoke again. "Blimey, Morgana, didn't ye ever wonder where yer mum an' dad learned it all?" Morgana frowned, searching the memories of this life, going back to the last time she saw Lily and James. The most she could remember was James smiling as her chubby baby hands grasped at some smoke. Her emerald eyes snapped to Hagrid. "Learned what?" she asked, getting more and more confused by the second. The giant man gave a sly grin as he leaned toward her. "Yer a witch, Morgana." The former N7 soldier's brain screeched to a halt. _Come again?_ She repeated herself aloud. "A witch, and a thumpin' good one I'd wager, once yer trained up a little." Hagrid's smile widened. Morgana stared at him as though he'd grown a second head. Get tossed backwards through time and into a life she had never lived, fine. Able to generate and manipulate Dark Energy, sure. A witch? No way in hell. Looking to Hagrid, she told him as much. "No, no way. I admit that I'm in no way normal, but a witch? That's impossible."

The giant man gave a knowing smile. "Well then, did ye ever make anything happen? Anything ye couldn't explain when you were angry or scared?" Morgana stopped. Last year during school, she had gotten angry at the teacher who believed everything the Dursley's told her and had assumed she had cheated on the pop quiz since she had aced it when even Vernon and Petunia's sweet Didkins had failed. It had been child's play for someone who had been originally born in 2154. As per usual, she had gotten supremely mad at the teacher and had just been thinking of anyway to embarrass the woman when pop, the woman's wig turned neon blue and had started spinning like a top. She looked up at Hagrid and he gave the girl a knowing smile. Pushing himself off the couch, Hagrid reached into his right-side coat pocket and pulled out a familiar envelop. She snatched it from him as soon as he offered it to her, her curiosity at the contents overriding her soldier's caution. The letter was written on old parchment in dark green ink.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1 three sets of plain work robes (black)

2 one plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3 one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4 one winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

She had only managed to read the first part aloud when Vernon had waddled over to her side and looked to Hagrid. "She'll not be going I tell you!" he cried desperately, looking from Morgana to Hagrid. "We swore when we took her in, we'd put a spot to all this rubbish!" Morgana's head snapped to Vernon, eyes blazing. "You knew, you knew all along and you never said a word about it!?" Morgana was furious. She had known that something was off about her. It had been like when she discovered her biotic power. She had known something was off then but hadn't been able to place it. Her original parents had taken her to the local doctor and had confirmed her Biotic power. Petunia spoke up, interrupting her train of thought. "Of course, we knew," the horse-like woman muttered, stepping down from her place on the stairs. "How could you not be? With my _perfect sister_ being who she was?" The woman sighed, eyes blazing with hate. "My mother and father were proud the day she got her letter,"

Petunia moved to stand by Vernon "'We have a witch in the family, isn't it wonderful?'" she sneered. "I was the only one to see her for what she was…a FREAK! And then she met that Potter and the she had you and I knew that you would be the same. Just as strange, just as…abnormal." With every word, Morgana's anger flared hotter and hotter. Anyone who had known her in her past life knew one absolute that had been forged into her soul the day the Batarians had tried to take her into slavery: NOBODY controlled her. Petunia spoke again. "And if you please, she went and got herself blown up, and we got landed with you!" The childish side of Morgana's mind took over before her adult mind could react. "Blown up?" She demanded, eyes blazing with a rage that made Petunia flinch. "You told me my parents died in a car crash!" Hagrid flinched and grabbed hold of the conversation "A car crash!? A car crash kill Lily and James Potter!?" He roared, his face turning red with rage. "We had to say something," Petunia said quietly. "It's a scandal, it's an outrage!" Hagrid roared in return. As Vernon began to speak, Morgana noticed Dudley reaching for her cake. Already filled with a burning rage, she finally let loose, snatching the first birthday cake she'd had in years from the fat boy before snapping her hand out, a biotic Shockwave blasting him against the wall with a cry of pain.

Silence reigned throughout the little cabin as her biotics began to run wild, her eyes glowing with violet flames as the former Spectre turned her gaze to her pseudo aunt and uncle. Rationally she knew that Lily and James weren't actually her parents and that she had no reason to be angry. But the emotional side of her told her that they were, in this life at least. And she deserved to know the truth. Loose bits of detritus began to float around her as her biotics mixed with the now revealed magic in her blood. "You…had no right, none whatsoever to hide that from me!" she was practically roaring in anger now, her magic mixing emerald light into the purple-black streams of energy. "I'm going to Hogwarts. And the first person to try and stop me, I'll shatter every bone in your bodies." Leaving no chance for response, she closed the lid on her cake, walked over to her corner of the sitting room to snatch her bag up and headed for the door. Pulling it off it's hinges, she turned to Hagrid and gave a small smile that seemed to set the giant man at ease. "Well…you coming?"

* * *

 _ **AN: A cookie to whoever can guess who the woman was.**_

 _ **I always hated how in the books and movies, Harry never got to eat the cake Hagrid got him. So yay! Morgana gets hers!**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed!**_

 _ **Reviews appreciated so long as you aren't rude.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express**_

The trip to London had been both boring and exciting to Morgana. After she had blasted Dudley across the room after he grabbed for her caked (worst idea ever, every member on board the Normandy knew not to grab for the Commander's cake), Hagrid had rowed them back to shore while telling her stories about Lily and James Potter during their seven years at Hogwarts. How Lily had been a Charm prodigy while James had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (a game played on flying broomstick. At least some of the legends were right) as a chaser. How Lily had hated James until their seventh year together and so on. The boring bit was that after her adrenaline wore off, she had nothing to do but eat her cake and stare out the window of the large bus purple bus that had appear with a loud bang! when Hagrid had extended his little pink umbrella, which he had explained contained the pieces of his wand. The ride was boring, if a little bumpy, but after flying through a debris field at the galactic center while getting shot at by Collector drones, it wasn't all that bad. In fact, she wasn't ashamed to admit that she fell asleep on the bus. Something about Hagrid just put her at ease, so without a second thought, she had passed out leaning against the giant man.

Morgana jolted awake as Hagrid shook her gently, biotic Flare ready in her hand as her head snapped left and right. The giant man gave her a concerned look at the orb of purple-black energy resting in her hand. She winced and let the orb fade away. _I need to get ahold on my paranoia. I'm not in a war for the fate of the galaxy anymore._ She thought, taking a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate. She looked to Hagrid and gave a disarming smile. "Nothing to worry about, just a bit nervous is all." Her words seemed to make sense to him and he gave the N7-turned-child a wide smile. "Ain't nothin' ta be nervous about," he said, helping her to her feet. "Yer about ta come home." She nodded, following Hagrid out to the street as she silently thanked whatever divine power there was that the giant was far too trusting, ignoring the stare the driver was giving her. Once on the street, she pulled out her acceptance letter and began to read through the supplies needed and the pets she could bring, if she had one. She frowned and looked up at Hagrid as they began to walk side-by-side down Charing Cross Road.

"Hey Hagrid," she said, catching the man's attention as they walked. He looked down at her and gave a smile. The former Spectre pointed to her list. "Two things. First, with everything on here, wands, cauldrons, robes and all, I assume there is some kind of magic shopping center around here somewhere?" Hagrid nodded excitedly, his shaggy hair flying everywhere as he did. "Tha' there is. Diagon Alley, biggest wizardin' market in Britain. Just got ta get through the Leaky Cauldron first." He pointed a massive arm down the street. She nodded thoughtfully before looking back to her list. "Why only cats, owls or toads for pets? Why not dogs, snakes or fish?" She thought back to the many fish she had owned aboard the Normandy SR2, along with her hamster and that biotic Varren Jack had owned. (What was its name again? E..something. Eezo! That was it! She had loved that thing) Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders as they came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a bar with a sign that had just shifted from black to a picture of a black cauldron with a leak in it.

"I don' rightly know. Ye'd hav ta talk ta Professor McGonagall about it." She nodded while sighing sadly. She had wanted to get either a hamster or maybe a dog since she had such a bad track record with fish. The giant man chuckled at her good-naturedly before pushing open the door to the pub. She followed him into the pub and was instantly assaulted by the unmistakable stench of booze and cigar smoke. Eyes watering, Morgana followed Hagrid through the crowd of people before the man behind the bar called out to Hagrid.

"Morning Hagrid, usual I presume?" the man called in a friendly tone, not acknowledging the red-haired girl beside the giant. Hagrid gave the man a bushy grin and shook his head. "Not today Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business." The giant of a man looked down at the emerald eyed child beside him. "Young miss Morgana here needs her school supplies." The entire pub grew quiet in an instant, every patron turning to stare wide-eyed at the former Spectre. Outwardly, Shepard put up a façade of nervousness and confusion, shifting her stance slightly as internally she readied herself for an attack. Everyone staring at her was becoming uncomfortable and sending her paranoia and adrenaline through the roof.

She was about to begin throwing her Biotics around when Tom the bartender spoke. "My word…it's Morgana Potter." He almost whispered in awe. All thought of combat screeched to a halt as the ex-N7 operative frowned in confusion. In a split-second, she was swarmed by the patrons, each one clamoring to shake her hand, each one thanking her, pressing closer and closer, filling her with a sense of being suffocated. Images of countless battles against Reaper forces began to flick past her eyes, mainly of human Husks swarming her, each attempting to break open her hard suit to tear her limb from limb. Finally, the restraint she had fought for three years to attain shattered.

Taking a page out of Jack's book, her body began to glow with Dark Energy that nobody seemed to notice until the very last second. " _Get…away… from_ _ **ME**_!" she roared as she let loose, unleashing a blast of Biotic energy that flung everyone crowding her against the walls. Her energy spent, Morgana collapsed to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to slow her heart rate and attempting to push the nightmarish memories to the back of her mind. She vaguely heard Hagrid's thick accent roaring at the patrons, berating them about crowding her. A large hand landed on her upper back and her eyes snapped open, still glowing with Dark Energy. She pushed herself to her feet and spun away from the hand, a Flare ready for deployment before she slid to a stop, holding the Flare in her hand to avoid blasting Hagrid with the equivalent of a small missile.

"Its alrigh' Morgana," the giant man said, holding his hands up to show he wasn't a threat. "Ain't nobody gonna hurt ya now. Just calm down now." Morgana's emerald eyes snapped left and right, scanning over everyone who was picking themselves up off the floor to ensure they weren't going to swarm her again. Letting the Flare fade away, she mumbled an apology before rushing toward the door behind the bar, ignoring the fearful stares she was receiving from the patrons. She pushed her way into the back alley and leaned against the wall, taking great gulps of fresh air before Hagrid pushed open the door and walked out to stand a few feet from her. He watched as the red-haired child leaned against took massive gulps of air, each one smaller than the last until finally she was breathing normally again. "What happened there, Morgana?" The giant man asked. The girl turned her emerald eyes to him and the giant had to stop himself from taking a step back. Her eyes were filled with emotion that was swiftly being pushed back, but even he could see the pain in her eyes. However, it was quickly push behind a wall of stone and was gone. She gave him that bright smile, this one dampened by sorrow and shook her head. "Just old fears, Hagrid. Let's go."

* * *

Morgana cursed her weakness as she and Hagrid walked down Diagon Alley. Three years and most that happened past a few explosions of temper. Then she gets to the Wizarding World and she has a God-Damned panic attack. Even if the panic attack had passed, she was still feeling the residual effects. If not for what happened inside the Leaky Cauldron, she would've been enjoy the sight of so many different and wonderous things, such as Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Magical Menagerie, and Quality Quidditch Supplies, just as she had when she visited Palaven or Thessia for the first time. Instead, her heart was heavy with the memories of those she had lost due to her inability to act. Kaiden, Thane, Anderson, along with every civilian who had lost their lives in the war with the Reapers. She shook her head as Hagrid put his hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. The ex-Spectre raised her head to see they now stood before a twisted white marble building. Gold writing spread in flowing script across the front of the building, reading 'Gringotts Wizarding Bank'. There were two inscriptions under the name of the bank. The first was a Latin phrase, _Fortius Quo Fidelius_ , which she couldn't translate, though she presumed it was a motto. The other seemed to be a warning in the form of a riddle.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

She looked to Hagrid, who gave her a soft smile as he placed a large hand on her shoulder and led her into the building. Upon entering, she nearly flinched at the sight of the grotesque creatures lining the long, black marble hall. With the appearance of a fusion between a suit-less Volus and a Vorcha, the creatures didn't look friendly in the slightest. Her hand drifting to a sidearm that wasn't there, she looked up at Hagrid and bumped him with her elbow. He startled slightly and looked down at her, bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are those things?" Morgana asked, feeling uneasy as many of the creatures raised their heads from their work, beady black eyes locking onto her as they passed them. "They're Goblins, Morgana." Hagrid's dark eyes flitted back and forth as he watched the now named goblins suspiciously. "Clever as they come Goblins, they're not the most friendly of beast. Best stay close."

Morgana nodded, not trusting herself to be able to put up a fight against so many unknown enemies when she didn't know their capabilities. Especially not so soon after her panic attack back at the pub. Within a few moments, they had reached the end of the aisle and were standing before a goblin with wispy white hair and a pair of wire-framed glasses sitting behind a large podium. He looked up as Hagrid cleared his throat and spoke. "Ms. Morgana Potter wishes to make a withdrawal." He said. Morgana took note of how the giant seemed to be trying to clear up his accent enough to be understood clearly. The goblin grumbled, obviously not happy about having his work interrupted, and leaned over the podium. And does Ms. Morgana Potter have her key?" the goblin said in a gravelly voice, sounding a bit like a Krogan when he did, attempting to pin the former Spectre with what would have been a terrifying glare, had she been anyone else. However, due to her experiences and the panic attack she had endured not to long ago, she was in no mood for intimidation tactics and simply used the same glare that had given Saren Arterias pause during the battle against Sovereign. The goblin started, having never seen such a glare from a human child, but glared back all the same to try and put the girl in her place, even as she impressed him.

Hagrid, (bless his big heart) either oblivious to the stare down or wanting to end the confrontation before it started, blinked and began patting his pockets, claiming to have the key on his person somewhere. Both soldier and goblin broke their staring contest in look to the giant man as he rummaged through his pockets for several moments before giving a small cry of triumph. "Aha, there's the little devil," said Hagrid, holding up the tiny key with a wide grin. He set the key down on the podium and cast a look to the red-haired child beside him. The giant leaned closer to the podium and spoke in what might have been a whisper, had Morgana not had such good hearing. Pulling out a small scrap of paper he said, "Professor Dumbledore gave me this." He handed the slip to the goblin, the paper tilting just enough for Morgana to read the TOP SECRET written in dark red ink.

"It's about you-know-what, in Vault you-know-which." Said the groundskeeper, looking to Morgana as though to make sure she didn't know what was being said. The goblin nodded slowly, shock evident on his face. "Very well." The goblin turned to the goblin beside him and nodded before turning back to the giant and the Spectre. "Griphook here shall take you to your respective Vaults." Said the goblin before he returned to his work. The goblin Griphook led the duo to a rather unsafe looking railcar, hopping into the control seat before Hagrid stepped in and Morgana followed, sitting next to the big man as bars not unlike those on a roller-coaster clicked into place in front of them.

For a moment, everything was still. Morgana was just about to turn around to question Griphook when her words turned to a shriek of surprise as the cart took off like a UT-47A Kodiak without the inertia dampeners on. The cart traveled at maybe 80 mph for several minutes, Morgana quickly relaxing since the ride reminded her of when Steve Cortez had invited her out for a ride around the Silversun Strip on the Citadel after that fiasco with Sarah, her clone turned twin-sister. However, the ride slid to a smooth stop all too soon. The red-haired Spectre sighed in disappointment, eliciting a laugh from Hagrid as he stood and exited the cart. The goblin Griphook shook his head at the oddness of the human before speaking in a gravelly high-pitched voice. "Vault 687," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, walking to the large vault door as Hagrid grabbed the lamp off the cart and followed, Morgana not a step behind him as her head swiveled left and right. Waiting for the pair at the door of the vault, Griphook spoke as soon as they stood right next to him. "Key please." He said. Hagrid handed the goblin the key to her vault and took several steps back as the goblin began to insert her key into the lock. For whatever reason, the irritation she had been feeling since her panic attack was replaced by trepidation. The child side of her mind was wondering what could possibly be in her vault, since she didn't know all that much about her parents past what Hagrid had told her while they were rowing to shore. The adult side of her mind, the side that had been through the hell of the Reaper War, was hoping that there was something she could use in case she got into any kind of trouble, which was more than likely considering who she was.

Morgana was shaken from her thoughts at the sound of the heavy vault door swinging open, golden light spilling out into the dimly lit hall of the railway. Stepping around the door, Shepard was greeted with the sight of a massive vault, filled with hills and valleys of gold, silver and copper coins, gems and other such precious items. The former N7 operative stepped over the threshold of the vault as Hagrid spoke up behind her. "Ya didn't think yer mum an' dad would leave ya with nothin' now did ya?" Shepard could hear the amusement in his voice as she walked between the hills of coin and gems. However, what truly caught her eye was a door to her right. The door itself wasn't all that impressive, just an average metal door with a wheel lock. It was the N7 Cmdr. Shepard emblazoned across the metal that made her freeze. Rushing to the door, she quickly grasped the wheel and turned it with all her might. It was well oiled, so it turned silently and smoothly before swinging open as Shepard push the door in. The room was dark right up until she stepped in and the candles lit themselves. The sight that greeted her brought tears to her eyes. The room looked almost exactly like the cargo bay aboard the Normandy SR2. Her many sets of armor were all present, polished and ready to go while leaned up against the left side wall with the holographic display ready for her. Her weapons hung on a rack on the right side, each sorted by the weapon types in true military fashion. On the pedestal next to her were two items. An Omni-Tool rig and a picture frame.

Wiping her eyes, she grabbed the rig and attached it to her arm, sighing in relief as the familiar holographic display sprang to life. She smiled at the familiar display before turning to the photograph. It was the picture of the last party she had thrown for her crew, with everyone from Liara to herself and Garrus, Wrex, Grunt, Zaeed, Samara and Javik to Miranda, Jacob, Kasumi, Joker and EDI, Tali, James, Ashely, and Steve along with her new sister, Sarah, sitting in front of the camera all smiling. Drops of tear splattered on the picture as the memories she had held back for so long came crashing down. Her family was gone, again. She didn't know if they were alive or dead, nor if her sacrifice had actually meant anything. Her knees hit the floor of the armory as the Spectre turned eleven-year-old let herself cry for the first time in three years.

Minutes later, Morgana wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, pushing herself to her feet as she carefully placed the picture frame in her coat pocket. She looked around the Alliance armory and sighed. All the armor and weapons in the room were designed for adults and she didn't have the time nor the materials to create versions small enough for her to utilize effectively. Turning toward the door, she was surprised to see that Hagrid was in fact not standing there staring at the weapons and armor. Shepard moved over to the entrance to the armory and poked her head out the door to see Hagrid and Griphook standing rather stiffly at the entrance to the vault. She frowned and stepped out of the armory, the lights dimming as soon as her body left the threshold and the door sliding shut quietly. Hagrid turned his head and jumped as he saw her standing amongst the gold, her eyes a storm of emotion and red from crying. "Morgana!" He cried as he stepped into the vault and took three massive strides toward her. "Wha' happened? I looked up and ye were just gone!" The girl gave a shaky laugh and shook her head. "It's nothing Hagrid. I just needed some time to myself is all." She looked at the goblin and motioned to the door with her head. "So why is that there and why didn't either of you come to make sure something didn't happen to me?" She asked, her voice thankfully even after her sob fest in the armory. The goblin looked at the armory door and leveled an even look at Shepard. "First, it is against goblin policy to enter a patron's vault without express permission.' He said curtly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Second, that door was enchanted so that only the heir to the vault could see what was inside by Mrs. Lily Potter nee Evans just after her marriage to James Potter." Morgana frowned and looked back to the armory door. _How did the Potter's get ahold of my equipment and what possessed them to hide that door?_ She wondered, brow furrowing in confusion. She sighed in aggravation before shaking her head to clear it. She gave Hagrid's shaggy face and gave a small smile. "So, how about you show me how all this money works?"

Morgana exited the bank with a medium sized bag filled with copper, silver and gold coin, Knuts, Sickles and Galleons respectively. The money was a bit confusing due to her still being somewhat used to credits being the standard galactic currency, but she got a handle on it soon enough. Hagrid led her though Diagon Alley, her head snapping left and right as she tried to take in everything at once. It seemed that her little breakdown in the vault was a much needed one, seeing as she didn't feel as though she was suffocating anymore. They had to stop multiple times due to Morgana's childish side kicking in and stopping to stare at every little thing. Outside of Eeylops Owl Emporium, Morgana's eyes had locked onto a stormy-grey owl with familiar cobalt blue eyes. Those eyes made her smile, but unfortunately, they had to move on, Hagrid saying that they still had her school supplies to pick up. As they moved away from the window, Morgana silently swore to purchase that owl before they left. The pair stopped at Flourish & Blotts for her school books, Potage's Cauldron Shop for her cauldron (Morgana tried to purchase a pure gold cauldron because why-the-hell-not, but Hagrid had unfortunately stopped her before she could), Slug & Jiggers Apothecary for her scales and potion ingredients, and Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment for her telescope.

Finally, they entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions for her robes. Seeing as it would take some time, Hagrid left to handle some business, leaving the soldier turned child to get outfitted for a school robe, which to her dismay required her to wear a skirt rather than pants like the boys did. Dresses she could handle, so long as they were at formal occasions. She was by no means accustomed to wearing skirts very often, considering that most of her military uniforms from her Dress Blues to her everyday commander outfit all used pants, not skirts. She sighed as Madam Malkin; a squat witch dressed all in mauve who seemed to be very friendly; had her stand on a pedestal so the short witch could take her measurements. Shepard hadn't been there more than a few minutes, when the shop door opened and in strutted a pale boy with platinum blonde hair dressed in fine clothing. Her emerald eyes locked onto his grey and she immediately scowled. She knew that look all too well. The Illusive Man, Kai Leng, that bastard Harken and many other of her old enemies had that same smug look of superiority in their eyes. Those were the eyes of a person who thought themselves above everyone else for whatever ridiculous reason. For the Illusive Man, it was because he thought himself the smartest person in the galaxy, despite Liara being a thousand times his superior. With Kai Leng it was his assumption that he could kill anyone at any time just for the hell of it and no one would be able to stop him. Harken had just been an arrogant ass, but her point still stood.

The boy spoke to the diminutive owner of the shop in a high and mighty tone when it hit her and her scowl deepened in response. He was Pureblood. Hagrid had given her a crash course on the prejudices of the Wizarding World. Purebloods on top saw themselves as better than everyone else. Muggleborns were witches or wizards born to a non-magical family and were often placed at the bottom of the food chain. Half-Bloods such as herself were the product of a Pureblood marrying and having magical children with Muggleborns. Squibs were just below Muggleborns, being those born in Wizarding families without magic. Blood Traitors were Purebloods who didn't think themselves above anyone else. If Liara had been a witch here, that would be her. Shepard was shaken out of her thoughts as the boy mounted the stool next to her, not being quiet in the slightest as he did. She could feel his eyes looking over her with a calculating efficiency, her earlier bad mood returning with a vengeance that mixed with her mind slotting him in with the likes of the Illusive Man. She shook her head to clear it. _The kid is just about eleven. Sure, he might be an asshole but that doesn't mean he's evil._ She chided herself silently while taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Hello," said the boy," Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," said Morgana curtly, trying to keep interaction with the platinum blonde to a minimum.

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy in a bored, drawling voice that once again reminded her of the Illusive Man. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Morgana was strongly reminded of that ass on Noveria, Administrator Anoleis who had refused to let her get to Matriarch Benezia.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy inquired.

"No," said Morgana, gritting her teeth while reminding herself that while rude, he seemed as though he was trying to be friendly.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Morgana said again, wishing the boy would stop talking in order to keep herself from punching him. Her temper was rising once again, hotter than it had been than the months just after her family had been killed on Mindoir.

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No and frankly I'm not going to worry about it. They'll put me where they put me. Not much I can do about that," Morgana all but snapped, making that blonde flinch ever so slightly.

"Well," the boy started slowly, not wanting to antagonize the emerald eyed girl, "No one really knows until the get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Morgana bit her tongue to keep from pulling rank and putting the boy in his place. She just needed to last until Madam Malkin got done with her robes. However, it seemed the boy was on a roll and pushed her once again.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy, nodding toward the front window. Following his gaze, Morgana could see Hagrid standing at the window with two large ice creams to show he couldn't enter the shop just yet. Morgana smiled at the large man and waved her hand. Despite only knowing the man a few hours, she knew she loved him like family.

"That's Hagrid," said Morgana as the large man took a seat on the bench outside the shop. "He works at Hogwarts as the Grounds keeper."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's some sort of servant or something, isn't he?" At the word 'Servant', Morgana stiffened, not that the boy noticed, he just kept on talking.

"I heard he's some sort of savage. Lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed, the big oaf." That was the final straw. No one insulted her friends with her standing within thirty feet of them and got away scot free. Stepping off her stool, she moved to stand in front of the boy, eyes blazing with such rage that what little coloring he had faded, leaving him bone white. Spinning on her heel, she launched a roundhouse kick that knocked the arrogant boy off his stool and into the wall. He slid down the oak wood quietly, the wind knocked out of him as Shepard stood over him. She reached down and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him up so that steel grey eyes met crystal green.

"That man is not an oaf nor a savage," she growled, lifting the boy and pinning him to the wall. "He's a big man with an even bigger heart. If it wasn't for him, I never would've figured out that I was a Half-Blood." The boy's eyes widened as he realized he had been insulting someone close to this dangerous girl. Morgana let her biotics come to the surface, covering her in the purple-black cloak that was Dark Energy. The boy's eyes filled with fear at the display of power and the smell of urine filled the air "If you EVER insult my friends again, I will pound you into a bloody pulp, do you understand me?" she bit out, restraining herself from knocking this boy's teeth out. Rationally, she knew that it wasn't this kid's fault for being such a stuck-up ass. It was his parents who had raised him that way. Emotionally, she didn't care. She had often been called the 'Mamma Bear of the Normandy' (among other things) for a very good reason. She let go of the boy's shirt and let him slide back to the ground. A small cough caught her attention and she turned to see Madam Malkin carrying a bundle of robes, giving her a soft smile. Apparently, she'd seen the whole thing. Shepard's anger vanished in a split-second and she rubbed her neck sheepishly.

"Sorry for the commotion," she said as Madam Malkin stepped forward.

"Think nothing of it dearie," the woman said in a soft voice that matched her small stature. "For that little display, you can have these at half-price. It's refreshing to see someone as noble as yourself." The woman placed the bundle in Morgana's stunned arms and pushed her toward the door. "Now I do believe Hagrid's waiting for you now." The door to the shop clicked shut behind her as she stood in the street, stunned at the woman. Shaking her head, she turned to Hagrid and put her robes in the sack containing her school supplies. They found a shaded place and sat down to eat, Morgana munching on the chocolate and strawberry ice cream happily. She told Hagrid about her confrontation with the blonde as they ate and Hagrid seemed to be upset.

"Yeh shouldn't have done that. Not that I don' appreciate it." He said quickly as she looked up from her ice cream. "But from the sound of it, that lad was a Pureblood, and they're right nasty when they've got a score to settle. So, yeh keep an eye out for him once yeh get to Hogwarts." The big man warned. She nodded quietly and went back to eating. Within a few minutes, they were both done and heading down the street. "All that's left now is my wand," said Morgana as they approached Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., the shop where she would get her wand. Hagrid stopped at the shop door and look down at her with a large grin.

"Righ', you head on in while I go get you a birthday present, eh?" he smiled at her. She grinned at the large man in return, knowing she wouldn't be able to convince him that he didn't need to do that. With a nod, she pushed the door open and entered the shop. A tinkling bell rang from somewhere in the shop as she stepped inside. It was a tiny place, with nothing but a small chair with spindly legs to support it. The back of her neck tingled, a sensation she now attributed to large amounts of powerful and intricate magics having been performed in the area. Looking past the small desk, she saw shelves lined with thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of narrow boxes, each presumably containing a wand.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, surprising Morgana so much she nearly jumped several feet in the air. An old man was standing just to her right, his wide pale eyes almost glowing like moons behind wispy clouds, the man's frizzy white hair giving him the appearance of a person who had just been electrocuted.

"Hello sir," Morgana said respectfully. This man seemed to ooze an air of respect and wisdom.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Morgana Potter. You have your mother's eyes," he said with a wistful smile. "It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.

Mr. Ollivander moved closer and Shepard instinctively stood at attention. The man's silvery eyes seem to gleam with respect for the young woman. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it." Mr. Ollivander pinned Morgana with those silver eyes. "It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Morgana frowned at that statement.

"With all due respect sir, but how is that possible?" The man raised an eyebrow. "I understand that wands are more than just fancy sticks, but having enough sentience to choose a Witch or Wizard?" Ollivander ignored her as he moves closer to Morgana, the long fingers of his right-hand brushing aside her crimson hair. "And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander's long white fingers brush against the lightning bolt scar on Morgana's forehead.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. Morgana frowned. She hadn't really thought much about the scar, considering she still had the scar over her left eye from the battle of Elysium during the Skylian Blitz. She was shaken from her musings as the old man continued.

"Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…" Morgana shook her head, catching the old man's attention. "It's not your fault, sir. Wands are tools. It's up to the Witch or Wizard to decide how it's used." She stated confidently. She'd seen it before. Man makes tool, tool is used to do terrible things. Ollivander smiled lightly at her declaration. "Yes well…enough about the past, we're here about your future." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings. "Which is your wand arm?" he asked.

"I'm right-handed sir." Morgana answered as she would if she were speaking to Admiral Hacket or Admiral Anderson. "Hold out your arm. That's it." He began to measure Morgana from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around her head. She felt like she was begin measured for her armor all over again. As the man measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two wands are the same, just as no unicorn, dragon, phoenix or person are the same." As the man talked, she realized that the measuring tape was attempting to crawl up her pants leg. With a minor squeak of surprise, she grabbed the thing and tied it into a knot, leaving it to wiggle on the floor pathetically.

Before long, she was testing out wands left and right. Several felt comfortable, but only slightly. Eventually, Ollivander handed her a thin wand with pale wood. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." She grabbed hold of it and felt a rush of warmth rush up her arm. For a split-second she thought she had found her wand - right up until it exploded in her hand, blasting her across the shop as the sleeve of her shirt caught fire. Quickly putting out the flames and taking her bundle of bandages out of her pocket, she pushed herself to her feet to see the ashes of the wand settle on the floor, the phoenix tail feather resting peacefully on the pile of dust.

"Curious, the core agreed with you, but the wood couldn't handle the power. Hmph," he turned and shuffled towards the back of the shop, muttering something about difficult customers. Shepard quickly wrapped her bleeding hand with the gauze, deciding to deal with the splinters later. Ollivander came back quickly, carrying several different wood types. He set them down on the counter, taking a step back and looking at the former-Spectre with his unnerving silver eyes. "These are several wood types we use in wands. Just pass your hand over them until you find the one that fits you." She nodded and stepped forward, her uninjured hand reaching up to hover over the wood. She closed her eyes and focused, just as Liara had taught her to do when she was having issues with the images burned into her brain by the Prothean Beacon.

She passed her hand over the woods and stopped almost as soon as she started, her hand settling over a jet-black rod that seemed to make both her Magic and her Biotics pulse in response. Plucking the piece of wood from under her hand, Mr. Ollivander raised it before his eyes, studying it intently. "Ebony, twelve inches, unyielding. Much like yourself, I imagine, Ms. Potter" The man's silver eyes gleamed for a moment before he picked up the phoenix feather and retreated into the back of the shop. Morgana stared after him for a moment, before taking a seat at the front of the shop. What did he mean by that? Does he know something about me? Thoughts such as these ran through her mind for nearly half-an-hour before that old man returned. Extending his hand, the jet-black wand sat in his hand, masterfully made in such a short time. Twelve inches from tip to base, it had intricate, swirling markings spiraling up the shaft, ending at the carefully crafted grip that fit her hand perfectly, even if it was a bit big. As she took the wand in hand, the same rush of warm energy rush up her arm, this time erupting from the tip of the wand in an explosion of emerald, violet, red and gold sparks.

She grinned and looked to the old man, before frowning. Mr. Ollivander looked a bit spooked. "Sir," she started, getting the wand maker's attention. "Are you alright?" The old man nodded slowly, reaching over and taking her new wand from her, running his hand along the wood.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Potter. Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your new wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for the core in this wand, when it's brother…gave you that scar."

Morgana froze. Her scar…came from the wand this man sold. A memory flit through her head. A flash of green light, the sensation of being struck in the head with a crowbar. She scowled before she was shaken from her thoughts as Ollivander continued. "I think we can expect great things from you, Ms. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

* * *

As Morgana left the shop; having paid twelve Galleons for her new custom wand; Hagrid greeted her outside with the owl she had intended on purchasing. She had grinned and hugged the big man, thanking him repeatedly like a child. She named the storm-grey owl Garrus, in honor of her Turian friend. After a quiet meal and a stern conversation, Hagrid had left for Hogwarts while Morgana had set up a room for herself at the Leaky Cauldron, after apologizing to Tom and the patrons and asking the innkeeper to let her keep to herself. Over the next month, she had read through her new school books, getting a feel for the different subjects. She also spent time looking through the data saved on her Omni-Tool, relieved that it still had the Omni-Blade function along with many of the old hacking tools and designs that she would most definitely utilize later on. Garrus turned out to be as prideful and cunning as his namesake, often harassing anyone foolish enough to try and sneak into her room to speak to her. Especially that blonde idiot and a man she assumed was his father from the man's long blonde hair. She had laughed herself silly when Garrus had dissuaded them from bothering her by shitting on the older man's head.

Finally, September 1st rolled around. Morgana had woken up at five in the morning to ready her supplies, putting her robes and books in her new trunk, while her scales and potions went into a potion's satchel. Garrus was set on the top of the pile as she made her way down to King's Cross station. Arriving at nine-thirty, she had stopped right between Platforms Nine and Ten when she realized that she had no idea how to get onto platform nine and three quarters. She debated asking one of the guards, but considering they were Muggles, it was most likely a terrible idea. So, she sat down to wait, a red-headed girl with a trunk, a satchel and an owl in the middle of King's Cross station. By the time ten-fifty rolled around, she was beginning to get worried. Her worries were crushed as a group of fiery-haired people passed by her. She caught the word 'Muggles' from the head of the group and silently congratulated herself for being patient.

Moving forward, she saw the speaker of the group was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all of which had trunks like herself, along with a single owl. The former-Spectre grinned and began to follow them.

"Now, what's the platform number?' said the woman, whom Shepard assumed was the children's mother.

"Nine and three quarters!" a small girl holding the plump woman's hand exclaimed. "Mum, can't I go..."

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right Percy, you go first." The tallest of the boys, with many freckles spotting across his face, moved forward swiftly. Morgana watched carefully to see how to get onto the platform, but of course, right as Percy was approaching the dividing barrier, a large group of people arrived to block her view. By the time they passed, the boy was gone. She cursed under her breath and began to approach the family, jostled left and right by civilians passing by. By the time she reached the flame-haired family, only the woman, the little girl Ginny and the smallest boy were left.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said to the plump woman.

"Hello dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

She pointed to the youngest of the boys, a tall, thin, gangly boy with big hands and feet, and a long nose who stood about an inch or so shorter than herself. He waved to her and she nodded in return. She looked back to the woman and little girl, who was blushing for some odd reason.

"Yes, ma'am," Morgana replied. "The thing is, I don't quite know how to- "

"How to get onto the platform?" the woman asked kindly, and Morgana nodded with a soft smile. She was liking this woman more and more with each passing moment.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Morgana nodded in thanks. "Okay, thank you"

She pushed her trolley around and began to walk. From her books, she knew that intent was very important with magic. So long as she knew what she wanted, she wouldn't crash. Moving quickly, she approached the barrier at a swift walk. Just before the front of her trolley touched the barrier, she blinked. As her eyes opened again, she was greeted with the sight of a scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform packed with people, all of which were dressed in odd robes that she connected to wizarding fashion. With a glance at the clock, she saw that it was almost eleven, so she hurried to the train cars. Once she found a car that was being crowded, she put her satchel over her shoulder, picked up Garrus' cage and attempted to lift her trunk only for it to fall on her toes. Morgana yelped and set down Garrus' cage, letting out a string of curses all the while.

"Want a hand?" a voice sounded behind her. It was one of the fire-haired kids from before.

"Yes, please," she bit out through her teeth. The boy turned around and called out. "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" The young man's twin hurried over with a mischievous grin that reminded her of Kasumi. With the twins' help, Shepard's trunk was finally stuff into the overhead of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Morgana, wiping her sweaty hair out of her eyes as she turned to pick up Garrus to hook his cage onto the hooks hanging from the ceiling.

"What's that?" asked Fred as he pointed at her lightning bolt scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you -?"

"She is," said Fred. "Aren't you?" he added with a look of awe at the N7 agent.

"What?" Morgana ground out, quickly getting aggravated with the back and forth the two of them had going on.

"Morgana Pot-," began both twins at the exact same time before she slapped her hands over their mouths. She threw a glance over her shoulder as several first years outside the compartment stopped and stared her for a moment before moving on. She looked to the twins and removed her hands.

"Yes," she began in a low tone. "I am Morgana Potter. But I'd rather you not go spreading that around. I'd prefer people to leave me be for the most part." The twins nodded with a smile and gave her a mock salute.

"Absolutely, we understand. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." The twins gave her matching grins as they headed out of the compartment, the door sliding closed just in time for her to collapse onto the bench with a sigh of relief. After what had happened at the Leaky Cauldron, she wasn't exactly to be swarmed by fanatic fans again. Looking up at the ceiling, she spotted Garrus watching her with intelligent blue eyes.

"Well, Garrus," she said," We're finally going to see what all the excitement about Hogwarts is. Any ideas?" The stormy owl seemed to shrug before hooting quietly and unhooking his cage with his beak. Hopping out, he took a spot on the trunk rack above her and stared down at the former-Spectre. Morgana sighed and closed her eyes. She had always hated trains, too long and too much mass. Muttering to herself about taking that brick of a dropship over the train, she quickly drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the door slid open, and Morgana's emerald eyes snapped open to see the youngest of the fiery-orange haired boys stick his head in. He looked around for a moment before his eyes fell on her prone form on the bench, emerald eyes meeting sky blue for a moment before he spoke up.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing to the seat opposite Morgana. "Everywhere else is full."

Morgana sighed and shook her head, pushing herself upright as the boy pulled his trunk into the compartment and set it up in the overhead rack. The boy sat down and glanced at Shepard for a moment before looking out the window, pretending quite unsuccessfully that he hadn't looked at all. Morgana saw that he had what looked like soot on the right side of his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins had returned, large grins on their faces. "We're going down to the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant Tarantula." Shepard froze. Spiders. She hated spiders. Considering that most arachnids throughout the galaxy tended to be the size of small cars, she preferred to keep as far away as possible.

"Right," mumbled Ron, looking as uncomfortable as she currently felt.

"Morgana," said the unidentified twin, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later then." They pulled their heads out and head down the train.

"Are you really Morgana Potter?" Ron blurted out, turning bright red as the N7 agent turned her emerald gaze to him. After a few moments of watching the boy, Shepard sighed. This was going to be a long year.

"Yes, I am, yes I really have a lightning bolt scar on my forehead and no I don't remember what happened that night past a flash of green light" she answered quickly, seeing the boy's mouth open again. Ron's mouth snapped shut at her curt tone and fell silent for a few minutes. After minute three, Morgana felt a bit uncomfortable at the way she had treated him. After her panic attack in the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid had told her that she was famous for stopping a terrorist named Voldemort the night her parents had died, so she should expect people to be enamored with her often. Deciding to break the silence, she cleared her throat to catch his attention.

"So…your whole family is magic then?" she asked tentatively, not wanting to make him anymore uncomfortable than she already had. Ron's face brightened as he nodded excitedly. Ron began to explain how he was the sixth boy in his family to go to Hogwarts, his oldest brother Bill having left to work at Gringotts after achieving the rank of Head Boy while the second oldest Charlie had been captain of the Quidditch team before leaving to work with dragon's in Romania. Percy was the oldest boy she had first spotted, now a prefect and a stickler for the rules, much like Kaiden had been when he had first been transferred to the Normandy SR1. Fred and George were like Kasumi without the thieving. Pranksters through and through but quite intelligent and loyal to their friends.

"You never get anything new, either, with five brothers." He said at the end of his short story. "I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." Ron pulled out a fat gray rat, which appeared to be fast asleep. However, Shepard's mind locked onto the part about his wand. "Wait, you didn't get your own wand?" She asked, brow furrowing in confusion. "Mr. Ollivander told me that every Witch or in this case Wizard should have their own wand." Obviously, it was the wrong thing to say, since the fiery haired boy's eyes locked onto her own wand, which was sitting on the seat next to her, its intricate markings obvious against the jet-black wood. His face turned red and he looked up, only to spot Garrus watching his with his cobalt blue eyes. Morgana followed his gaze to her owl before clicking her tongue. Garrus ruffled his feathers and fluttered down to her shoulder, head held high with his usual pride.

"This is Garrus," she said, reaching up to stroke the owl's neck. Ron frowned in confusion. "Garrus?" he asked. "I've never heard of a name like that."

Morgana smiled lightly as the owl pinned the boy with his cobalt gaze and shook her head. "Garrus was the name of a good friend of mine. Best damn shot you'd ever see, though he had bit of an ego issue." She explained with a smile, remembering her many great moments with the Turian sniper. Ron seemed a bit confused but nodded slowly. They fell into comfortable conversation, Ron explaining more about his family and the low-level politics of the wizarding world, with Morgana telling about her time with the Dursley's and showing Ron her Omni-Tool after obtaining a promise to keep it to himself. London fell away past the windows, but Morgana was too involved in her conversation with her new friend. Ron was shocked when she had said Voldemort's name rather than saying 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. She had shrugged it off, saying that he was nothing more than a coward who had attacked an infant and lost. To fear him was to admit that he'd won, and she would never admit defeat.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling dimpled woman slid their door back and said "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Morgana, with her extreme sweet tooth, leapt to her feet while Ron muttered something about a sandwich as Shepard headed out to the hall. Eyes growing wide at the sight of all the strange new sweets, Morgana bought a little bit of everything with the left-over money she had after purchasing her school supplies and housing for a month at the pub. Paying the kind woman eleven Sickles and seven Knuts, Morgana carried her purchases back into the compartment. Ron's eyes grew as he saw her haul and was silent with surprise for several moments as he watched Morgana tear through several pumpkin pasty.

"Hungry, are you?" he asked with a grin.

Morgana smiled and swallowed her mouthful of food. "Starving. My body burns through calories at a ridiculous rate, so I need to eat a lot to keep my energy up." She explained as she tossed Ron a small box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Don't be surprised at school if you see me munching on a snack in the middle of class. I work best on a full stomach."

It was nice, sitting eating sweets with her new friend. It reminded her of all the team dinners she had aboard both Normandy's. Eventually she got to the Chocolate Frogs, which Ron explained had a card of a famous which or wizard inside. Ron had gotten Morgana La Fey, her namesake from both worlds. She herself had gotten a card with an old man with half-moon glasses, a crooked nose and flowing silver hair, beard and mustache. She turned the card over and read:

 _ **ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**_

Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts

 _Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his word on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling_

Morgana turned the card back over to see the old man was gone. She blinked and turned the card over before looking to Ron.

"Dumbledore's gone!"

"Well you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron as though moving pictures were the most obvious thing in the world. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her… do you want it? You can start collecting."

Pretty soon, they were trading cards, with Morgana ending up with Dumbledore and Morgana La Fey, Merlin, Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus and the Druidess Cliodna. As she finally opened her own box of wizard Jelly beans, Ron spoke up.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned her. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor – you know, you get the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint and marshmallow, but then you can get spinach, liver and tripe. George reckons he got a bogey-flavored one once."

Morgana grimaced at the notion. Considering all the cybernetic enhancements Cerberus had given her during her recovery and the additional enhancements she had picked up during the fight against both the Collects and Reapers were now a natural part of her, she wouldn't have to worry about getting poisoned (again), but she wasn't looking forward to possibly getting one that tasted like Krogan piss. They ended up making a bit of a game out of it, with Ron getting all the flavors that shouldn't be in jelly beans and Morgana continuously getting fruit and candy flavored beans. It seemed as though her luck was holding out on the little things. Eventually, the neat fields outside the window faded away, replaced by woods, twisting rivers and dark hills that only grew darker as the sun began to set.

Eventually, the door to their compartment opened and a round-faced boy came in with watery eyes. Morgana, being the mamma bear she was, immediately stood and moved over to the boy, asking him if he was alright.

"Sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "Have you seen a toad at all?" Both residents of the compartment shook their heads and the boy wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" Morgana put her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Crying about it won't help you find him. Dry your eyes, take a few deep breaths and stay calm as you look for him, alright?" She said. The chubby boy stared at her for a moment, eyes flickering up to the lightning bolt scar for a split second before going back to her intense green eyes. After a few moments, he nodded, wiped his eyes and took a deep breath before heading back out to look for his toad after giving her a thankful smile. Morgana smiled in return and slid the door closed behind him, turning back to her seat just to see Ron gaping at her.

"What?" she asked.

Ron shook his head. "I've never seen anyone calm someone down that fast with just a few words. How'd you do it?" he asked, blue eyes wide as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. She sat at her seat and tried to think of a suitable lie to tell. Thankfully, she was saved by Ron losing interest and pulling out his battered wand, which seemed to having something white hanging out of the tip. Raising his wand in an obvious attempt to perform magic, he stopped as the door slid open and the boy came back in, this time with a bushy hair young girl with hazel eyes. She was already in her Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had rather large front teeth and a rather bossy sort of voice, though Shepard easily saw through it to see the anxiety and nervousness in the girl. _Trying to prove she belongs here_ thought Morgana, with a raised eyebrow that caused the girl to pause. "We already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, eyes flickering to Morgana. The girl wasn't listening though, she was staring at the chipped and battered wand in Ron's hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down next to Morgana, Garrus hopping over a few inches to back away from the bushy haired human. Ron was taken aback.

"Er – all right." Said Ron hesitantly as he cleared his throat and his wand toward Scabbers the rat.

 _"Sunshine, daisies, Butter Mellow,_

 _Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow_

There was a simply flash of light, but the rat stayed asleep and the same gray color as before.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic, it was all a great surprise when my letter arrived, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all of this in almost one breath, very quickly. _'Hopefully it will be enough?' Yep, definitely trying to prove she belongs here. She's almost like Liara, but without the shyness._ Morgana thought as she and Ron introduced themselves

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered, obviously intimidate by Hermione.

"Morgana Potter, pleasure to meet you," said Shepard, smiling charismatically as the bushy haired girl blanched and turned bright red. She started rambling about how Morgana was in one of their history books and which house she thought she'd be in. Eventually, the girl left, taking Neville with her as she did. Ron looked at Morgana and pointed to the door. "What's her problem?" He asked, oblivious as a stone wall. Shepard sighed and began to explain. "She's a Muggleborn, and she's a bookworm. This is her way of trying to prove that she deserves to go to Hogwarts. "said Shepard, shaking her head. "I don't doubt she's probably a good person, she just needs to mellow out and not focus so much on the books."

Soon enough, the duo were back to talking about random topics, the current on being the finer points of Quidditch, which Morgana had to admit sounded like a lot of fun. Ron was just explaining the role of the Seeker when the door slid open a third time, however this time it wasn't Neville or Hermione.

Three boys entered, and Morgana recognized the middle one and the arrogant kid who had insulted Hagrid right before she had kicked him into the wall and threatened to pound into a bloody pulp. Despite having been knocked around by Shepard, the boy was looking at her with a lot more interest than he had while he was running his mouth in Madam Malkin's shop. Morgana's eyes flicked to the boys on either side of the blonde. Both were thickset and mean looking, standing on either side of the boy like bodyguards. Morgana grinned internally as they cracked their knuckles. Obviously, they thought themselves intimidating. However, considering she had gone head to head with both Wrex and Grunt in multiple sparring sessions with no holding back, even in her current eleven-year-old form could take them easily.

"Is it true?" asked the blonde boy, pulling Morgana's attention back to him. "They're saying all down the train that Morgana Potter's in this compartment. So, it's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, what of it?" asked Morgana with steel in her voice, her eyes going so cold, the pair of fools behind the blonde froze in fear.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he said arrogantly. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." He motioned to the pair behind him carelessly. Ron coughed slightly, which most likely was his attempt to hide a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him with contempt in his eyes.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." _Here we go. Time to put this punk in his place once and for all. The big ones are going to move first, he's the brain, they 're the brawn. Take them out fast, then Shockwave him into the wall._ Morgana quickly planned in her head, an almost feral grin forming at the thought of a fight. It had been far too long since she'd punched someone.

The platinum blonde turned to Morgana, smug smirk on his face. One which faltered ever so slightly at the grin on her face. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there" He extended his hand. Morgana's grin grew as she grasped his hand and squeezed. Draco's eyes bugged out of his head at the steel grip that was forcing him to his knees. Morgana pinned him with an emerald gaze, biotics coming to the surface as the two bodyguards began to step forward, both stopping at the cloak of purple-black energy.

"And what exactly makes one family better than another, Draco?" she asked, refusing to use his family name. "The way I see it, actions dictate a family's worth, not Blood. Anyone who treats others like the dirt beneath their boot is not worth my time. Those who would help another because it's the right thing to do is worth my time." She released his hand and the thickset boy charged. She ducked Goyle's punch before elbowing him in the stomach with her right arm and using that same arm to punch Crabbe in his fat stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs as she grabbed the fronts of their robes and pulled them on top of Draco. Once they were all in place, she pushed them out of the room with Shockwave, pinning them to the opposite wall before surrounding their bodies with dark-energy and pinning them to the floor. Morgana stepped out of the compartment as her biotics faded away, leaving the three boys gasping from pain and fear.

"Leave. Come back around me or my friends again to insult or bully us, and next time, I won't hold back." Said Shepard, this time her emerald magic pouring off her. Draco and his two stooges scrambled to their feet and bolted towards the back of the train. Morgana turned back to her compartment to find Ron staring at her in awe. She shrugged and reached up to pull her robes from her trunk and headed to the bathroom just down the hall.

By the time she had gotten back to the compartment, Hermione Granger was leaving, heading back to wherever she had come from. Ron stepped around Shepard and headed to the bathroom to change. Garrus had hopped back into his cage and locked it. Morgana smiled at the owl and stuffed her N7 hoodie, black tank top and blue jeans into her trunk. The intercom sounded and she instinctively snapped to attention as the driver announced they would be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. She took a deep breath as she shoved her half of their sweets into her robe pockets. Time to see what all the hubbub was about.

* * *

 ** _AN: Okay so a few people (you know who you are) pointed out that since Shepard had been in a massive and terrible war, she should have PTSD. Now i don't have first-hand experience with PTSD, closest i have is my grand-dad telling me how he avoids having panic attacks over every little thing. So sorry if you know how that is supposed to go and i got it wrong, thats on me._**

 ** _Okay onto more light-hearted stuff:_**

 ** _1: only two people guessed who the woman was at the beginning, so Virtual cookies to Me, Myself, and I and_** _ **AmethystPone.**_

 ** _2: Several people have asked for a romance, and i already have a plan for that, sorry if you had other ideas._**

 _ **3: If you want a Shepard going into a specific house, your welcome to put it in, but no guarantee that i will put her there.**_

 _ **Anywho, thanks for reading, Please review and be polite when you do!**_

 _ **Have a nice day!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4: The Sorting and a Blast from the Past**_

Ron and Morgana had stepped off the train onto a small, dark platform, shortly joined by Hermione, who appeared to be rather cross about something. Morgana resolved to ask the girl later. The cold night air made her breath fog in front of her, causing many of the students shiver as they stood there. Soon, a lamp began bobbing over the heads of the students, and a familiar voice cried out:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Morgana?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads, his smile widening as Morgana grinned in return and waved at him.

"Hey, Hagrid! Have a good month?" she asked, happy to see her giant friend.

"It was all right," the giant said with a smile. "C'mon, follow me – anymore firs' years? Mind yer step,now! Firs' years follow me"

Having been on many night-ops over her time as a soldier, Morgana followed the giant, silent as a wolf on the hunt as the rest of the students slipped and stumbled over the uneven ground down a steep, narrow path. Neville, who had moved to join the small group, sniffed once or twice, presumably over the loss of his toad.

"Ye'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, sounding very excited. "jus' round this bend here."

There was a wave of sound that pertained to awe. Morgana didn't make a sound, but it was needless to say that she was impressed, no entranced by the sight before her. The narrow path had opened onto the edge of a massive black lake. Perched atop a mountain on the other side of the water, its windows sparkling in starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers glowing silver under the full moon.

"No more'n four to a boat," called Hagrid, shaking Morgana out of her trance as a fleet of rowboats slid to a silent stop at the edge of the lake. Hermione, Neville, Ron and Morgana all piled into a boat, Morgana getting in last to hold the boat steady as the adolescents clambered in.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat all to himself. Morgana had to stifle a laugh at how goofy he looked at that moment. "Right then - FORWARD!

And with that word, the little fleet of boats moved off all at once, Morgana's neck prickling as the magic around her sang as the boats slid across the lake, the water remaining smooth as glass the whole while. Everyone, Shepard included, was silent as they stared at the massive construct above them. The castle towered over them as they closed the distance, getting taller and taller with each passing second. Eventually, the fleet reached the cliff, Hagrid calling for them to duck as the boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. As Morgana sat up straight, she nearly burst out laughing as Hagrid pushed himself up, having laid down to avoid the ivy. The giant man caught her, red-faced from trying to keep from laughing, and gave a sheepish grin accompanied by a wave that the crimson-haired girl returned.

They had reached some form of underground harbor, where all the boats slid to a stop as silent as the breeze. One by one, the boats emptied, Draco Malfoy giving a smug grin as he and his henchmen exited just ahead of them. Morgana shook her head in exasperation at the idiotic boy as her boat slid up to the dock and they all exited one at a time. A small squeak by her foot had Shepard looking down to spot a mid-sized toad next to her shoe.

"Neville," she said, catching the pudgy boy's attention. She pointed at her foot. "Is that your toad?"

"Trevor!" he cried blissfully, reaching down and catching the amphibian before he could hop off. Morgana pulled Neville along as the group of first years began to move forward, heading up through a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out onto smooth, damp grass that Morgana could tell was bright green even in the silver light of the moon, Hogwarts castle looming over them. The group walked up the flight of stairs to crowd around a set of huge front doors made of oak, carved with what Morgana recognized as the Hogwarts coat of arms. Hagrid looked over the group, catching her eye and giving a wide grin before turning and raising a giant fist to knock three times on the doors.

The door swung open at once, and a familiar woman stood just past them. The same tall, stern-faced woman Morgana had spotted watching her at the zoo was standing before the first-year students dressed in emerald green robes that seemed to fit her quiet well. Now that they were in her territory, this was not a woman to cross. Morgana stood at attention as the woman's sage green eyes met the Spectre's emerald green. The woman's gaze turned to Hagrid as the big man stepped forward.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," he said with a respectful nod, one that the now named Professor McGonagall returned.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Her voice was stern, but friendly with a hint of a Scottish accent mixed in. Shepard had spent enough time around Kenneth Donnelly to recognize it. She pulled the doors wide open to let the students in and Morgana whistled in approval. The entrance hall was large enough to fit the Dursley's house within it. The stone walls were lite with flaming torches not unlike the ones in Gringotts Bank. The ceiling was high enough that for anyone else, it would've been difficult to make out, but Shepard could see the archways and glass windows high above. A magnificent marble staircase just across from the Teacher and students led to the upper floors. They followed the older woman across the flagged stone floor until the passed another set of large doors. Thanks to the cybernetics Cerberus installed when rebuilding her that had become a natural part of her during her…reincarnation?... she was able to hear separate conversations in what she could only assume was the Great Hall. The rest of the school was already inside, possibly waiting for the new generation.

However, Professor McGonagall led the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing close enough that Morgana could feel another panic attack coming on. She quickly grabbed hold of Ron and Hermione by their robes and pulled them to the only spot in the room with enough room for her to breathe clearly. Unfortunately, it was right at the front, so her deep breaths caught the teacher's eye, though the woman didn't say anything. At Ron and Hermione's questioning looks, Shepard shook her head and mouthed _Later_. The pair nodded slowly and began paying attention to the teacher as she spoke.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Morgana spotted Draco and company out of the corner of her eye on her right side, grinning maliciously when McGonagall said Slytherin. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Professor McGonagall's eye lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear and on Ron's smudged nose. Morgana didn't bother with her messy crimson hair. It was impossible to tame unless tied into a tight bun like on the day she received the Star of Terra just after the Skylian Blitz. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said the Professor. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and Morgana heard Ron swallow loudly. Hermione, on the other hand, immediately looked to Morgana with a questioning glance. Morgana sighed. "I'm not good when people are crowding me. I feel like I'm suffocating and I lash out." Shepard explained quickly. "I had to get to an open area before I had a panic attack."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Morgana gave the (mentally) younger girl a soft smile before turning to Ron. "Any idea how they sort us into houses?" she asked, since he had five brothers who had attended. Ron shrugged unhelpfully. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Morgana sighed. Considering that Fred and his twin were undoubtedly the pranksters of the school, she seriously doubted that anything they said was one hundred percent true. Kasumi had never given information that was a hundred percent accurate during a prank. Just enough to truth to make it believable. On her right, she could hear Hermione muttering very fast about the spells she'd used for practice and which ones she'd need. She sounded terrified. Morgana put a comforting hand on her shoulder and the bushy haired girl immediately snapped her head to the emerald eyed soldier and calmed down at the sight of the crimson haired girl's soft smile. She was rudely shaken from her thoughts as a rush of ice flooded through her entire being and a pearly-white and vaguely transparent figure phased through her. So shocked was she that she didn't even flare her Biotics or magic in retaliation. About twenty ghosts were now floating around the room, most wearing what appeared to be clothing from the 17-1800s. Past glaring at the fat monk that had passed through her, she ignored them, opting to await Professor McGonagall's return. Two minutes later, return she did.

"Move along now," she said in a sharp tone, causing Morgana to snap to attention once more. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." One by one, the ghosts exited the room via the opposite wall. "Now form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years. "and follow me."

Feeling as though she was back in Basic Training, Morgana got behind a boy with sandy hair with Hermione behind her and Ron behind Hermione. As one, the eleven-year-old students all started moving out of the chamber and through the massive double doors that led into the Great Hall. Having seen countless different worlds during her years as both N7 and Spectre, Morgana hadn't thought that many things could stun her in awe anymore. Impress her, yes. Stun her, no. However, she hadn't considered entering a building imbued with such powerful magics. The massive room was lit by a hundred thousand candles that floated through the air over four long tables, which were occupied with the rest of the students. At the end of the hall was a final table that was occupied by who Morgana could only assume were the teachers.

Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the steps leading to the faculty table, and stopped them there. Morgana looked left and right to see the hundreds of faces of both faculty and student staring at them, looking very much like the ghosts she had seen before. Had she been anyone else, she would've been uncomfortable. But unlike the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, these faces were all curious and excited about the new students in their midst. However, two faces seemed to be different from the rest.

 _ **Albus Dumbledore**_

Albus prided himself on knowing everything he could about objects of interest. Ms. Potter for example. When he had left the girl with the Dursley's, he had put a block on her magic, mostly so it would come out a little bit at a time. However, the girl before him was not the one he had been expecting. He had been expecting a scraggly girl, nervous, afraid and magically weak from the block. This girl was the opposite. Tall, confident and powerful, her magic spreading out like a bonfire, bolstering the Weasley boy and bushy haired girl on her right and left respectively. The spitting image of her mother, mixed with her father's untamable hair, the girl had the confidence and build of a soldier, her emerald eyes burning with experience that no eleven-year-old should've possessed.

Emerald eyes met sky blue and Albus pressed lightly with Legilimense to see the girl's mind. However, the crimson-haired girl started and the old man was forced from her mind as a wave of power unlike anything he had ever felt before crashed against him. His eyes widened as the girl scowled at the intrusion and locked her emerald eyes on him. Fury that Albus could only compare to that of a dragon burned in her eyes, fury that made the old man's blood run cold. Silently, he vowed to not attempt that again, at least not while she was conscious. His head turned to look at Severus, who was glaring at the Potter girl with a mix a hatred and pained confusion. No doubt surprised at how much the girl looked like her mother while at the same time enraged at that very same fact. Albus watched as the crimson-haired girl met Severus' gaze and simply raised an eyebrow at his glare. Albus frowned. The girl was much different then he had calculated. It would not be a simple thing to control her…

 _ **Morgana Potter (Shepard)**_

Shepard was pissed. She was so pissed she barely even noticed when the odd hat that started singing about itself, the houses and the school as she glared at the Headmaster. Not even five minutes in and he had already tried to violate her most sacred place. Her mind. She gave a small grin at the surprise upon his face as she forced him out. After the Prothean Beacons, the Reapers and their Artifacts, and the Leviathan getting into her head, she had practically begged Samara, Liara and Shiala to help her protect her mind from outside influences. While Liara had specialized in creating false images in her head and Shiala creating mazes that left the intruder no choice but to withdraw, Morgana had specialized in Samara's method. Dig into your power and force the person out. Before it had simply been her will and Biotics. Now she had Magic to add to the already volatile mix. And boy, had it been effective.

However, even her small victory hadn't been enough to lighten her spirits. Now that greasy haired teacher dressed all in black (He had to be Head of Slytherin house) was glaring at her as though she were the scum of the Earth. She was shaken out of her grumbling by the entire hall erupting into applause and Ron whispering into her ear. "So we've just got to try on the hat! I'm going to kill Fred, he was going on about fighting a troll"

Morgana looked over at the twins; who were sitting at the table to her left; and gave the pair a wide grin, one that they returned with a roar of laughter and a high five with each other. Shaking her head at their antics, she looked back to the hat as Professor McGonagall began to call up students. One by one, they were sorted and within a few minutes, half the first years were placed.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione threw an excited glance Morgana's way and practically ran up to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned, then yelped as Morgana smacked his shoulder. Soon, Neville was called and sat for a very long time with the large hat on his head, making Morgana giggle at the goofy sight. (Hey, she may be an adult mentally, but she's still amused by funny things.) Finally, the hat cried "GRYFFINDOR," and Neville ran off still wearing the raggedy thing only to jog back to Professor McGonagall amid waves of laughter as the teacher handed it off to "MacDougal, Morag." Draco practically swaggered forward as his name was called and got his wish in an instant, the hat barely touching his head when it called out "SLYTHERIN!"

The arrogant Pureblood went to join Tweedledum and Tweedledee at the Slytherin table, looking very much please with himself. (not that the prick did anything). Not many people left now. "Moon" …" Nott" …" Parkinson" …then twin girls of Indian ancestry, "Patil" and "Patil" …, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"

Finally, what Shepard had been waiting for arrived.

"Potter, Morgana!"

Immediately, the crowd fell silent for a moment before the whispering started. Morgana cleared her throat and moved forward, feeling like she did the day she was made a Spectre, minus the threat of Saren of course. Before long, she reached the stool and the last thing she saw before the too-large hat slipped over her eyes was the hall full of people trying to get a good look at her. _At least some things never change_ she thought with a small grin. Within a few moments, she heard a small voice in her ear, one that sounded like someone who smoked three packs a day.

"Hmm…" said the voice. "Interesting…very interesting. I've never Sorted a soldier of your caliber before. Granted, I've never Sorted a soldier before. Such courage in the face of impossible odds, loyalty to friends who turned their backs on you, not a bad mind either, very smart indeed … talent, an ocean's worth of talent, and a thirst to….to protect. Now that's interesting, that is… now where to put you.?"

Morgana's mind flicked over to Slytherin and her mind soured. Immediately the hat laughed, "Not Slytherin, eh?" it said. "Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness." Morgana scowled. _I have no interest in being great or famous. I'd rather do things because it's the right thing to do and no other reason_. The hat stilled before it began to chuckle. Its chuckle became a full-blown laugh as the hat said "Well, if you're sure! Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

Morgana's face split into a wide grin as she yanked the hat off her head and dropped it on the stool. As she turned to the Gryffindor table, she noticed that she was getting the loudest applause yet. She trotted over to the table, where Percy the Prefect stood up and shook her hand vigorously while Fred and George Weasley got up and danced in a circle, crying, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" As she sat down, she could see the High Table properly and, on the end, closest to her, sat Hagrid who caught her eye and gave her a thumbs up, at which she grinned. Now there were only four people left, one being Ron and a girl who looked oddly familiar.

"Thomas, Dean" joined her at the Gryffindor table and the next name was a punch to the gut. "T'soni, Liara!" All noise faded into the background as the girl stepped forward. Dark blue hair tied into a ponytail, with her bangs framing sapphire blue eyes. Morgana couldn't help but stare at the childish, human form of her wife as the girl mounted the steps with the same grace that her Liara had possessed and took a seat on the stool. The hat came to rest on her head and almost instantly the hat screamed "RAVENCLAW!" Liara's face split into that grin that always made Shepard's heart pound, even now as the girl moved swiftly over to the blue and black Ravenclaws. Shepard was the loudest one cheering, not that anyone seemed to notice since the Ravenclaws were deafening. Liara noticed however and blushed a great deal when she spotted Morgana Potter cheering for her. Soon, everything calmed down and "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw as well, taking a seat next Liara, who hugged the girl enthusiastically.

And then it was finally Ron's turn. He looked like he was about to be sick, but apparently had nothing to be worried about, since the hat placed the carrot-top in Gryffindor after only a few moments. Morgana clapped loudly with the rest of the Gryffindors as Ron all but ran to the table and took a seat next to her, his older brother Percy patting him on the back as he did. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise" was placed in Slytherin and Professor McGonagall took her list, the stool and the hat and went out a side door. Morgana's stomach growled, causing her to look down at the golden plate. When was the food going to come out? She looked up to see Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students like an old man with his grand-children, his arms opened wide, as though everything was right in the world. Morgana however, glared at the old man who had tried to defile her mind.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And those words are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Everyone began to clap and cheer. Morgana wasn't sure if the man was bat shit crazy or just acting like that to throw people off. However, those thoughts were pushed from her mind as the golden plates were suddenly piled high with food. It was more food than she'd ever seen in her forty years and the only thing that passed through her mind at that point was how much exercise she would need to make sure it didn't turn to fat. From the memories of her life before she woke up under the stairs, the Dursley's had never starved her, but they had never allowed her to eat as much as she liked, unlike her pig of a cousin.

Pushing the thought of her pseudo relatives and the old man who had tried to violate her mind, she dug into the food with gusto, talking to Dean Thomas; a dark-skinned boy who seemed rather friendly; and Seamus Finnigan; a pale boy with dark hair that seemed a bit … off if she were being totally honest; while watching the ghosts up and down the hall interact with the students. Before long, everyone had eaten as much as they could barring Shepard; due to her accelerated metabolism; and the last remnants of food faded away, leaving the golden plates shimmering as though no food had ever touched them. That lasted all of five seconds as the plates were suddenly filled with all forms of desserts. Morgana immediately helped herself to a large slice of German chocolate cake. Everyone at the table quickly learned; as the _Normandy_ crew did; not to touch her cake as she pinned Ron's robe to the table with her knife when he tried to nab a small piece off her plate, causing the whole table to fall silent before roaring in laughter at the crimson-haired girl's expression as she pulled her cake closer to her.

All around her, Shepard could hear different students talking about this and that. Ron and Neville were talking about Neville's family trying to get his magic to emerge via the most ways possible, including hanging the boy out a third story window. Hermione and Ron's brother Percy were talking about the lessons and what they were hoping for. Soon everyone was feeling rather sleepy, and the food was fading away. Morgana sneaked a peak at the High Table to see Hagrid take great gulps from his goblet, Professor McGonagall was talking to the Headmaster and the greasy-haired man was speaking to a jumpy man wearing an odd purple turban. The man looked around the turban toward Morgana and a flare of red hot pain shot through her head, right across her lightning bolt scar.

"Fuck!" she bit out as her hand slapped over the scar. Everyone in the immediate area froze and looked at her, Hermione gaping at her as though she had just grown a second head.

"What is it?" asked Percy Weasley as he frowned at her.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Something just hit my head is all. Nothing to worry about."

They seemed to believe her, seeing as they dropped the subject at once. Finally, the last of the dessert vanished, and the Headmaster stood from his fancy chair, the Great Hall falling silent as the old man did. Morgana paid attention as well. As much as she didn't like the man for his intrusion into her mind, he might've had some insight into the school.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." He said, looking around the hall with twinkling eyes.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that." The old man's eyes lingered on the Weasley twins for a few moments and the Spectre grinned at the two as they chuckled mischievously to each other. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Morgana frowned at this announcement. What was the point of a school of magic if they couldn't practice outside their classrooms. She could understand not using the magic to harm fellow students, that was something she had learned in Basic Training.

"Quidditch trials shall be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." The old man motioned to a woman with windswept grey hair and yellow, hawk-like eyes that sat three seats down from him.

"And finally, I must warn you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death." Morgana stiffened at that. Several people laughed, but the N7 operative looked at the man as though he were insane. If he had something lethal inside a school for children, she would have to make sure it couldn't hurt anyone. Surveillance on the corridor perhaps?

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing a school song!" cried Dumbledore, as the rest of the teachers stiffened and Morgana spotted at least four of the adults; including Professor McGonagall; put palm to face. The Headmaster raised his knobby wand and gave it a little flick, a long golden ribbon erupted from the tip, rising high above the tables to form words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," he said, "and off we go!"

Morgana looked around as everyone began to sing and shrugged. While she wasn't the best musician around, Liara had seemed to enjoy their private music nights in her cabin. She chose the Alliance anthem tune and sung along:

" _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

 _Teach us something please,_

 _Whether we be old and bald_

 _Or young with scabby knees,_

 _Our heads could do with filling_

 _With some interesting stuff,_

 _For now they're bare and full of air,_

 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

 _So teach us things worth knowing,_

 _Bring back what we've forgot,_

 _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

 _And learn until our brains rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times, with the Weasley Twins finishing with what sounded like a very slow funeral march, Dumbledore conducting their last few lines with his wand and was the one who clapped the loudest once they were done.

"Ah, music," he said as he removed his half-moon glasses to wipe his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot.!" Morgana had to agree with his comment about music, seeing as while whatever they learned here would be incredible, music could aid a person in baring their soul to the world if done right. Morgana stood with the rest of the Gryffindor first years and followed Percy out of the Great Hall, she and young-Liara locking eyes for a split second as they passed one another, causing the blue-haired girl to blush. The emerald eyed soldier grinned to herself as she followed the carrot-top up the marble staircase just outside the Great Hall. They went up countless stairs, Percy explaining that the stone constructs tended to change every so often. If Ron hadn't explained that wizarding photos and paintings moved, Morgana would've been surprised when all the people in the paintings along the walls started pointing and whispering as they passed. They followed the oldest Weasley boy through hidden doorways behind statues, paintings and hanging tapestries. As they entered a long hallway, a bundle of floating walking-sticks attempted to dive-bomb them, a mad cackle echoing through the air as they did. It turned out to be the local Poltergeist, Peeves. (Ghosts, Poltergeists? Sure, why not?) Once Percy issued a stern threat about talking to the Slytherin Ghost, the Bloody Baron, about his antics, Peeves blew a raspberry at them and disappeared with a pop.

At the end of the hall was a large portrait of a obese woman in a horrible pink dress that Morgana would've burned on sight had anyone ever been dumb enough to try and get her to wear it. Once Percy spoke the passcode, (Caput Draconis) the portrait swung open, revealing a hole in the stone wall leading to the cozy, round room that was the Gryffindor Common Room. Percy directed the boys through their door that led to their dormitories, Morgana and Ron bidding each other goodnight as he did, before she and the rest of the girls head to their own door. Up the spiral staircase they went, Morgana pushing open the door to show five four-poster beds with deep red, velvet curtains. Morgana immediately took the bed next to the window, her trunk and satchel at the base of the bed. While the rest of the girls changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed, Morgana began to perform her evening exercises, ignoring the odd looks she was receiving from Hermione and a girl with slick brown hair named Lavender Brown as she went through her push-ups, sit-ups and crunches. After an hour, the girls were asleep and she entered the showers across from her bed to wash off the sweat. Before long, she was dried off and dressed in a black tank-top and sweat pants as she climbed into bed, blowing out her candle as she did. She fell into Morpheus' realm as soon as her head hit the pillow.

 _She found herself in a familiar place. An ash covered forest, shades of countless dead drifting from one spot to the next. The voices of her fallen comrades and the ones she left behind echoed through the forest as she ran, seeking the family she had left behind. Shepard…, the shades whispered, drifting closer and closer, suffocating her as memories of the Reapers destroying entire battalions emerged from the depths of her psyche. Soon, it was too much to handle and the soldier fell to her knees on the ash covered ground, clutching at her head as the faces of everyone she had lost and those she had killed flashed before her. It was too much. She screamed._

Morgana shot up in bed, drenched in sweat from the all too familiar nightmare. She looked at the clock on the wall. Five o'clock in the morning. Time to get up anyway.

"There, look."

"Next to the kid with the orange hair."

"With the green eyes?

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her scar?"

Whispers like that followed Morgana the moment she stepped out of the girl's dormitory a few hours later after she had finished her morning exercises and showered before the rest of the first-year girls woke up. Students were lining up outside classrooms and standing up on the tips of their toes trying to get a better look at her. Some even doubled back to stare at her again as they passed her. It was starting to get on her nerves. She was used to people staring, being the Lion of Elysium and the first human Spectre, but this was just getting ridiculous. Don't these idiots have anything better to do? Thought Shepard as she walked through the halls toward her first class of the day. Of course, that was while avoiding the moving stairs, trick steps, doors that wouldn't open unless she either asked politely or tickled the thing, ghosts trying to pass through her, and that aggravation Peeves trying to pull on her nose while invisible.

And if the poltergeist wasn't bad enough, the Caretaker, Mr. Filch tried giving her detention when she had taken a wrong turn and had ended up trying to get through a door that led to the out-of-bounds corridor. Only Professor Quirrell, the man with the turban, kept the grouchy old man from handing out an unfair punishment. She had thanked the man and moved on from the door, marking the location on her Omni-Tool for later investigation.

Morgana soon learned that magic was a bit more complicated than simply taking out one's wand and saying some mumbo jumbo words while focusing on what one wanted to happen. Wednesdays, they studied the night skies though their telescopes at midnight, learning the names of different stars and movements of the planets. Shepard had impressed Professor Sinistra; a tall witch with dark hair, eyes, and skin; with her knowledge of the cosmos. Three times a week they went to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with the head of Hufflepuff, Professor Sprout, a little witch who was rather friendly. They learned how to care for the oddest plants and fungi the Spectre had ever seen. History of Magic was the only class Morgana could never stay awake in. The teacher, Professor Binns, was a ghost and beyond boring, droning on and on while they scribbled down names and dates while getting important names mixed up.

One of her favorite classes was Charms, taught by the Head of Ravenclaw house, Professor Flitwick. A tiny little wizard who was both kind and intelligent, he required a stack of books to see over his desk. he had squeaked and toppled out of sight when he had reached her name during roll call on the first day. Liara and Hermione seemed to be competing for 'Smartest kid in the school' title. It was rather amusing, watching the two of them go back and forth, with Liara usually coming out on top.

Professor McGonagall was exactly as Morgana had imagined during the opening feast. Strict and clever, she had given the class a lecture the instant they sat down in class, explaining that Transfiguration was some of the most complex and dangerous magic they would learn at the magic School. She had then proceeded to turn her desk into a pink pig and back, impressing most of the students, though Morgana knew they weren't going to do anything that advanced for a long time. The stern woman had them take many complicated notes before handing out matches and telling the class to attempt to turn them into needles. Only Hermione and Morgana had managed it, though Hermione had succeeded first, getting a wide grin and pat on the back from Morgana before the Spectre managed it herself. McGonagall had been rather impressed with the both of them and shown the class how their matchsticks were now silver and pointy, giving the girls a rare smile. She liked Transfiguration.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a massive disappointment to Morgana, who had been expecting the class to focus on using offensive spells designed to take on Dark Wizards or creatures. However, Professor Quirrell turned out to be a stuttering coward. His classroom smelled of garlic at all times, the man stuttered through every word and whenever someone asked him about his past exploits, he'd start talking about the weather or rather anything other than the subject.

The crimson-haired girl was surprised that she; despite being a soldier from the future who dealt with Dark Energy on a daily basis; wasn't as far behind everyone else as she had been expecting. Most of the students had grown up with Muggle families, either being Muggleborns or Half-Bloods. Hell, even Ron wasn't that far ahead, and his whole family were Purebloods.

By Friday, almost everyone in the school was aware of Morgana's morning exercises and were all whispering about it by the time she and Hermione had reached the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Well, you can't expect me to just give up my schedule just because we're in a school for magic," Morgana was explaining to Hermione why she was always up in the mornings, running around the perimeter of the school grounds. "All the food we eat, mixed with how much we just sit around taking notes, I'd rather not get fat, thank you very much."

The pair sat down at the table, soon joined by Ron, and began looking over their schedules.

"What have we got today?" Ron asked as he poured sugar into his porridge, Morgana opting for eggs, bacon and grits for her morning meals. Morgana put her fork down and looked over her schedule while Hermione ate her oatmeal.

"Looks like we've got double Potions with the Slytherins," she said, setting her schedule down in disgust. Draco had been bothering her nonstop since start of term, trying to get a rise out of her by either attempting to sabotage her school work or not-so-subtly insulting her.

"Snape's Head of Slytherin House," Ron said around a mouthful of porridge. "They say he favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true." He sighed in resignation. "Wish McGonagall favored us…"

Professor McGonagall had turned out to be Head of Gryffindor, but it hadn't stopped her from giving the whole house a massive amount of homework the day before. Morgana didn't mind personally. Being a soldier, she was used to working hard to achieve her goal. Of course, this time she just had to worry about her grades rather than the end of all advanced organic life in the galaxy.

Just then, the mail arrived via a storm of owls swirling around the Great Hall in the mornings. Garrus had often brought her letters to and from Gringotts Banks, since she had been coordinating with the Goblins on a certain project of hers. Today was slightly different. The stormy owl swooped down, landed between the bacon and sugar bowl and dropped a note onto her plate. It was from Hagrid, asking if she wanted to have a cup of tea with him that Friday. She quickly scribbled her response, after seeing if either Ron or Hermione wanted join them. She had given Garrus a piece of bacon, a pat on his feathery head and sent him on to take her response to Hagrid.

Morgana had gotten a distinct sense that Professor Snape didn't really like her at the start-of-term feast from the glares he continuously sent her way. By the end of her first Potions lesson, she had realized that, for whatever reason, the man hated her with every fiber of his being.

Potions took place in what was once the castle's dungeons, down where it was dark and cold and frankly reminded Shepard of the lair of the _Leviathan_. If that wasn't bad enough, the creep factor was upped to eleven by the jars filled with pickled animals in them. Snape, like Flitwick, was taking roll call, and like Flitwick, paused at her name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Morgana Potter. Our new - celebrity." Something unreadable flickers across his face as he turned to her. His eyes were black, much like Hagrid's but without the big man's warmth. Draco and his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered across the room.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he started, cold black eyes scanning over the assembled students. His voice was barely a whisper, but like McGonagall, he had a way of keeping the class quiet with no effort at all. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes." _Oh great, he's the kind of guy who thinks he's smarter than anyone else in the room. Joy of joys._ Thought Morgana as the man continued. "The delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the sense …. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence follow his little speech. Morgana looked to Ron and subtly rolled her eyes. Hermione was sitting on the edge of her seat, looking absolutely desperate to prove that she was not, in fact, a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione's hand shot up like a bullet.

Morgana thought for a few moments before answering. "A sleeping potion called the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape looked surprised for a moment before continuing. "Very good, Potter. Let's try again, shall we? Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Morgana blinked and thought back to the potion books she had read over her time at the Leaky Cauldron. She remembered what the answer was, it had only stuck with her due to how odd it had sounded. "In the stomach of a goat, sir." She replied simply, causing the man to blink and Hermione to lower her hand dejectedly.

"Once more, Potter," the man sneered. Obviously, the man had expected her to fail his questions. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

In a split-second, Hermione's hand was up again, stretching toward the ceiling. But once again, Shepard came out on top.

"They're the same plant, sir. Also known as aconite." Morgana replied, ice in her voice. She didn't know why the man was targeting her, but she wasn't going to just lay down and take it. The dark-eyed man nodded to himself before looking to the rest of the class.

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" Snape snapped at the class. There was a sudden scrambling for parchment and quills as the man turn to the Spectre.

"Very good, Potter. It seems you haven't let fame go to your head after all. Five points to Gryffindor for not being a complete dunderhead."

Soon after, Snape had separated them into pairs to mix a simple potion to cure boils. He moved through the classroom in his long black cloak, looking very much like an overgrown bat. The cruel man criticized everyone in the room except for Draco, who he seemed to dote on. The man was going on about how the arrogant blonde had stirred his horned slugs perfectly when Morgana spotted Neville about to put in the Porcupine quills before he and Seamus had taken their cauldrons off the fire. Acting swiftly, her hand lashed out and clamped over his fist, keeping the quills from entering his potion. The chubby boy looked at her in confusion, blue eyes watery from the fumes. Before Morgana could explain, Snape spotted her.

"Potter! Why are you manhandling Longbottom?" the man sneered as he came around the front of her cauldron. Her emerald eyes narrowed for a moment before she answered.

"Your instructions say to add the porcupine quills after taking the cauldron off the flames. I'm keeping Neville from turning his potion into an explosive." She told the man evenly, watching as his face twisted into a sneer for a moment.

"Very well, Potter," he said. "But next time, keep your hands to yourself." At that, he stalked off to intimidate the rest of the class. An hour later, she and Ron were heading toward Hagrid's hut out on the grounds, Hermione following a few feet behind hesitantly, Morgana having dragged her along so she wouldn't go and bury her nose in another book. Hagrid lived in a small hut right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a place that Morgana had explored for a few hours the past few nights on her moonlit walks. A massive crossbow that would've made both Grunt and Wrex swoon sat just outside the front door right next to a large pair of rubber boots.

When Morgana knocked on the front door, the three of them heard what reminded Morgana of when Jack had brought Eezo over to her apartment. Hagrid owned a dog, if the booming barks were anything to go by. Then Hagrid's voice called out, "Jus' a minute. _Back_ , Fang - get _back_ ya ruddy dog!" The big man cracked the door open to peer out, his face splitting into a wide smile as he saw the familiar crimson hair.

"Hang on," he said. " _Back_ , Fang."

He opened the door the rest of the way, restraining to keep hold of an enormous black boarhound. Inside was only one large room, with a massive bed in the back corner next to the backdoor, hams and birds of some kind or another hanging from hooks on the ceiling. A copper kettle sat over the massive fireplace, water boiling in preparation for the tea. Being honest, Shepard didn't particularly like tea, preferring Soda or some alcoholic drinks. She had drunk tea with Liara during their mind-training sessions, and knew that most people in England enjoyed tea, it just wasn't her favorite.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid as he let go of Fang, the big black dog practically tackling Ron to the floor before licking the carrot-tops face. Morgana laughed at the boy while Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable. After laughing at the boy for several moments, Morgana took pity and flicked the boarhound's nose, getting Fang to back off enough for the former-Spectre to pull her fiery-haired friend to his feet, Ron's face covered in dog slobber.

"Hagrid, this is Ron," she motioned to her friend, who was wiping his face on his sleeve. "His family helped me get onto the train. You know, since you didn't bother to mention how to get onto the platform before you left." She finished mischievously.

The big man sputtered before spotting her grin and shook his head before looking to Ron. He looked from the boy's fiery hair, to his freckled covered face to his old robes.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid as he began pouring out the tea and placing what appeared to be rock cakes on a plate. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

Morgana had the sense to heat up the cakes before eating them. She loved the big man like family, but she couldn't help but feel his cooking needed a lot of work. She was right of course when Ron nearly broke his teeth on the cakes. Fang rested his head on her knee as they told Hagrid about their lessons over the first week of school. Morgana and Ron both grinned when Hagrid called filch "that old git." While Hermione look affronted, saying that he was probably just stressed since he was the only caretaker in the school, at which point Morgana pointed out that the old bastard had that evil cat of his follow her around everywhere and had swatted at Garrus more than once.

They eventually reached Snape's lesson and how the Head of Slytherin house had been specifically targeting her the whole time. Hagrid told them not to worry about it, that he never liked any students other than the Slytherins in his House. However, Morgana noticed that the big man refused to meet her eyes as he spoke. She sighed as a thought came to mind.

"He and my father didn't get along, did they?" she asked, pinning the big man with a look that made him shift uncomfortably. After several moments, the giant sighed.

"No, not at all." He said. "Yer father and Snape were rivals from day one. Never agreed over anything, always jinxing or cursing each other in the halls."

Morgana put palm to hand and shook her head in exasperation. "So he's taking his anger out on me since my dad's dead?" She cursed under her breath, making Hermione gasp and smack her shoulder. "Sins of the father should not be visited upon the child," she said sagely, making the other three occupants of the cabin.

As Hagrid and Ron started talking about Ron's older brother Charlie, Morgana picked up the Daily Prophet that was lying facedown on the table under a tea cozy.

 **GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

 **Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.**

 **Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The one of the vaults in question had been emptied that very same day, while the other could only be opened with the owner of said vault present.**

" **But we're not telling you what was in the vault or who the vaults belonged to , so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.**

Morgana remembered Ron had mentioned during their conversations on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts before the start of the school year, but he hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid," she said. "The Gringotts break-in happened while we were there on my birthday. Do you think it happened while we were in my vault?" she tested, thinking of the vault with the two of them had visited after she had collected the funds necessary for her school supplies. It had contained only a small wrapped package that Hagrid had refused to talk about the whole time. When the big man absolutely refused to meet her eyes, she knew she was right immediately. Whoever had broken in had been after whatever he grabbed and possibly her own vault, no doubt trying to gain access to her weapons and armor. The question was what was the package and how did they know that her vault contained more than just massive amounts in money.

As the trio walked back to the castle for dinner, Morgana and Ron's pockets filled with rock cakes they had been too polite to decline, she thought that none of the lessons she'd had so far had given her as much to think about as the trip down to Hagrid's cabin. There was something happening in the wizarding world, and she'd be damned if she stood by while criminals snuck around in the shadows. She had tried to ignore Cerberus when she had first heard of them and look at what had happened. She vowed right there and then that she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

* * *

 _ **AN: I UNDERSTAND MANY OF YOU DIDN'T WANT SHEPARD IN GRYFFINDOR, FOR VARYING REASONS. LET ME TELL YOU MY REASONS:**_

 _ **A: SHE HAS THE WAR HERO BACKGROUND, MEANING SHE FOUGHT AT ELYSIUM AND WON. THAT TAKES AN ENORMOUS AMOUNT OF COURAGE TO HOLD HER POSITION AGAINST IMPOSSIBLE ODDS BY HERSELF.**_

 _ **B: AS MANY PEOPLE POINTED OUT, YES SHE'S LOYAL AND INTELLIGENT AND CUNNING. AS I POINTED OUT, SHE COULD'VE FIT IN ALL THE HOUSES. HOWEVER, TO THOSE WHO THOUGHT RAVENCLAW WAS A GOOD IDEA, SHE'S A SOLDIER, NOT A SCHOLAR OR SCIENTIST. SORRY. TO THOSE WHO SAID HUFFLEPUFF, I WAS ON THE FENCE FOR THAT ONE DUE TO HER LOYALTY TO HER TEAM, BUT I ENDED UP PUTTING HER IN GRYFFINDOR. SORRY. AND THOSE WHO SAID SLYTHERIN...THINK ABOUT IT. PUTTING A HIGHLY-TRAINED SOLDIER WITH PTSD IN A HOUSE FILLED WITH THE CHILDREN WHOSE FAMILIES WANT HER DEAD FOR WHAT SHE DID TO MOLDEYSHORTS? THERE WOULDN'T BE ANYONE LEFT BY THE END OF THE WEEK. SORRY.**_

 _ **AND TO THE PERSON WHO SUGGESTED THAT I PUT OTHER MASS EFFECT CHARACTERS IN HERE (I APOLOGIZE FOR FORGETTING YOUR NAME, IT'S FOUR IN THE MORNING RIGHT NOW), YOU GET A VIRTUAL COOKIE AND A HIGH FIVE, THAT IS GENIUS. I MIGHT DO THAT LATER ON, BUT FOR NOW YOU GET HARRY POTTER VERSION OF THEM.**_

 _ **AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR READING. IF YOU WANT TO REVIEW, PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL WHEN YOU CRITICIZE MY WORK! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY, THANK YOU AND SEE YOU IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5: A Spectre's Wrath**_

Ever since Hagrid had indirectly informed Morgana of someone playing an intricate game with whatever package he had picked up at Gringotts, she had spent her midnight hours prowling the corridors of the school, searching for anything suspicious. There was nothing. She had tried entering the door she had discovered that led to the off-limits corridor, but apparently someone had thought about students getting overly curious. If it had been a technological lock, she could've either hacked it or slapped some Omni-Jell on the thing. As it stood, she could just blast the wood and steel door without alerting the faculty. So for now, she'd simply watch.

During her daytime hours, she tried to avoid Hermione's cross questions about where she disappeared to at night. She usually answered with a half-truth, telling the girl that she had trouble sleeping and walked the corridors to calm herself down and tire herself out. The bushy haired bookworm had excepted it, with the rather stern request that she be back no later than twelve thirty at night. Morgana had accepted the parley to keep the girl from sticking her nose somewhere it could get her in trouble or worst, injured. While she and Hermione weren't the best of friends, the former-Spectre genuinely liked her, comparing her to a mixture of a young Liara and Kaiden during his first few weeks aboard the Normandy SR1. Ron, on the other hand, was almost an exact replica of how she was just out of Basic Training. Brash, stubborn as a drunken Krogan, and at times, as prideful as an Asari Huntress.

In her free time, she had begun picking out students who had the potential to be more than the school would let them be. Dean Thomas was creative, thinking up the craziest solutions to a problem. He could be the IT specialist on her new team. Seamus Finnigan had an affinity for explosions: Demolitions expert. Ron was headstrong and preferred to force his way through his problems: Heavy Weapons specialist. And so on, the list continued. She knew that whoever was pulling the strings on the attempted heist at Gringotts wouldn't just stop there. They would keep trying, keep pushing the limits, and eventually someone was going to get hurt, so she would do everything possible to either stop them in their tracks or keep civilian casualties to a minimum.

On a more positive note, she, Liara and Hermione were the top of the year in most of their classes. (She still couldn't stay awake in History of Magic to save her life.) She was pushing Ron to study more, while he attempted to teach her how to play Wizard's chess after a few hours of studying; a schedule they had agreed on. As a result, she wasn't nearly as bad as she was when she and Samantha Traynor would have matches in her cabin. She wasn't good enough to beat Ron, but she wasn't losing as quickly anymore.

The week after her first meeting with Hagrid, a notice went up on the Gryffindor notice board. Flying lessons were starting that Thursday, and the Gryffindors would be learning alongside the Slytherins. Morgana didn't hate the House of the Cunning and Ambitious as a whole. It was the individuals that got on her nerves. Theodore Nott for example; a ferret-looking boy who got a sleazy look in his eye every time he approached her; had come to her no less than eight different time in an attempt to negotiate a marriage contract. The last time she had punched him in the face, a confrontation that ended with Snape taking twenty points from Gryffindor and McGonagall taking ten from Slytherin after Morgana had explained the situation to the older woman, since Snape had been steadily getting worse toward her ever since her first lesson with the man. Draco on the other hand reminded the Spectre of Councilor Udina. Ambitious, cunning and cowardly. She was used to dealing with that, so it was a simple thing to either ignore or put the arrogant boy in his place. Daphne Greengrass on the other hand reminded her a bit of Miranda after the Cerberus agent had been fighting alongside the Spectre for a few months. The girl was intelligent and cunning, often sharing information on members of Slytherin house to the former-N7 agent whenever the two studied together.

If Morgana was being honest, she was actually looking forward to the flying lessons. Steve had shown her the ropes on flying the UT-47A Kodiak during their time off, and she had found that she loved flying with inertial dampeners. As a result, she was giddy with anticipation waiting for the lessons to start, something that got on the nerves of her classmates. Sometimes she cursed being a kid again. It was like fighting a war in her own head, one side was the veteran soldier with PTSD, the other was an eleven-year-old girl who was enamored by every magical thing that passed before her eyes.

Of course, Draco had to try and ruin her good mood by gloating about his feats on his own broom. The idiot boy was continuously claiming to have avoided Muggles in helicopters and such. She didn't believe a word of it, though she was surprised that he even knew what a helicopter was. Of course, she and every Half-Blood and Muggleborn started laughing when he said that the helicopters were flying bikes with weapons that fired beams of light at him. He wasn't the only one gloating about their feats on broomsticks. Seamus had told countless tales of him zooming around the country side, Ron had said he almost crashed into a hang-glider on his brother Charlie's broom. That one she believed, seeing as Ron was a terrible liar. Seamus was a Half-Blood so it might've been possible. Neville hadn't been on a broomstick in his whole life, his over bearing grandmother keeping his feet planted on the ground, making the pudgy boy extremely nervous about the upcoming lessons. Personally, Morgana thought that was for the best. As much as she enjoyed the boy's company, he managed to have the worst accidents possible, so his grandmother had probably saved his life. Morgana herself hadn't been big on sports even before her death, afterwards it wouldn't have been fair due to the cybernetic implants that increased her speed, strength and reaction time.

Hermione was as nervous at the thought of flying as Neville was, going so far as to checked out every book in the library that had something to do with flying and had begun listing different facts about the skill to them on Thursday morning. Morgana only half listened, preoccupied with piling her plate with enough food to make even Ron look like a light eater. Neville on the other hand was hanging onto her every word, desperate for anything that could help him stay on his broomstick later. Garrus interrupted everyone by landing right in front of Morgana, scattering her bacon everywhere. The emerald-eyed girl glared at the smug looking owl as she took the letter from his beak before flicking the gray owl's forehead, sending the bird on his way in a huff. Flicking the letter open, she read the flowing scripture with a steadily growing smile.

 _Dear Ms. Potter,_

 _If it is no trouble, I have a few questions that require an answer. Perhaps after your flying lessons, we can meet later and talk a bit? You do not need answer right now, simply meet me in the library once the school day is done, before dinner._

 _Sincerely, Liara T'soni._

Morgana was shaken out of her pleased thoughts as Neville cried out. Quickly stuffing the letter into her pocket, the soldier jumped to her feet as Malfoy was looking at a glass ball with gold bands that seemed to be filled with red smoke, Crabbe and Goyle keeping Neville from snatching it back.

"Draco!" she called, slipping into her Commander role, her tone becoming like icy steel and emerald eyes becoming colder than the surface of Pluto, catching the pompous blonde off guard. "Do you need a reminder of Madam Malkin's shop?"

The blonde's already pale face turned bone white and he hurriedly shoved the ball back to Neville, muttering "Just looking," as he slumped away with his bodyguards. She sat down slowly, everyone in the Hall staring at her as she did. Slowly, conversation went back to normal and Hermione gave her a look she had learned to recognize. "What did you mean by that, Morgana?"

Morgana shrugged and replied, "We met in Madam Malkin's shop in Diagon Alley. He was insulting Hagrid, so I roundhouse kicked him into a wall and threatened to beat him to a bloody pulp if he was stupid enough to do anything like that again." Silence reigned at the table and Morgana looked up from her food to see everyone staring at her. "What?

At three-thirty that afternoon, Morgana and the rest of the first-year Gryffindors headed down the front steps onto the grounds for the flying lessons. It was a beautiful day, clear and breezy, the grass rippling under their feet as the wind blew across the grounds. The students marched to the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting for them with twenty broomsticks lying on the ground. Morgana vaguely remembered George Weasley complaining that the school brooms vibrated when you flew too high or always flew a bit to the left.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" barked Madam Hooch, yellow eyes scanning over the students with a piercing gaze. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

They took their positions and Morgana grimaced at the broom by her feet. It looked to be very old and many of the twigs were sticking out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch from the front of the class, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" shouted every student.

There were varying results. Morgana's broom leapt to her hand immediately, as did Draco's. Ron's flew up to smack him in the face with the handle while Hermione's simply rolled around on the ground. Dean's floated up ever so slowly, while Seamus's (surprise, surprise) caught fire. Neville's stayed on the ground quivering, while Daphne Greengrass's floated up gracefully.

Once everyone had their broom in hand, Madam Hooch had them mount the brooms and went along each line, correcting their mistakes, making sure they wouldn't slide off when they took to the air. Morgana and Ron had to keep themselves from laughing out loud when Madam Hooch told Draco that he'd been doing it wrong for years. Soon though, everyone was ready for takeoff, physically at least, since Hermione looked petrified and Neville was, well, Neville.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off the ground, hard," said Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, poor nervous Neville, kicked off before the whistle even touched the hawk-eyed woman's lips and rather than simply rising, his broom took off like a rocket, pulling the screaming boy along with him. Morgana saw what was about to happen and curse under her breath at her mediocre skill with Singularity. If she had practiced like she had planned to, a low-level Singularity would keep the boy from hurting himself, but because of her laziness, she was helpless as she saw Neville slip from his broom and fall, the Spectre already moving to where he would land. Hard.

WHAM - a thud and crack and Neville was face down in the grass, clutching at his wrist. Morgana reached the boy first and quickly tore a strip from her robes while grabbing two thick tree limbs on the ground. She gently felt over Neville's wrist as he whimpered in the grass, feeling along the break before giving him an apologetic look as she snapped the broken bone back into place. She quickly braced the bone and wrapped it, tying it off tight as Madam Hooch and the rest of the class reached him. The hawk-eyed teacher approached Morgana as the crimson-haired girl helped the whimpering boy to his feet, the teacher's face white as bone.

"Wrist is broken in two places," said the girl in a no-nonsense tone. "I've set the bone, but it's best if he heads to the Hospital Wing to get that looked at."

The teacher blinked at blank expression of the eleven-year-old and nodded slowly, taking Neville by the arm and leading him away, calling over her shoulder as she did, "None of you is to move while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch." The woman stopped and turned to Morgana, a small smile on her face. "And twenty points to Gryffindor for quick and efficient work." Morgana didn't react as the teacher resumed her journey to the hospital. Everyone looked to The-Girl-Who-Lived as she watched the pair leave. The silence was broken when Malfoy had the audacity to laugh as soon as teacher and injured student were out of earshot.

"Did you see face?" the arrogant pureblood crowed, oblivious to how Morgana had stiffened, nor to how the air was suddenly charged with power. The other Slytherins joined him; baring Daphne and her small group; ignoring the energy spitting and hissing around a certain crimson-haired girl. The sky began to darken, the smell of ozone filling the air. Not that anyone noticed.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped, glaring at the laughing blonde.

Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a cruel, pug-faced Slytherin girl that could usually be found clinging to Malfoy. "Never thought you'd like fat crybabies, Pavarti"

"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching up a small glass ball out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's grandmother got him."

The orb glittered in the sun as the boy held it up in triumph.

"Give it here Malfoy," came a deathly quiet voice, but one that everyone heard. Turning to the Girl-Who-Lived, everyone was shocked silent at the level of raw magic pouring off the girl, emerald energy swirling like a hurricane, eyes engulfed in emerald flames. The Pureblood paled at the power and everyone took several steps back.

"N-no, I think I'll leave it—Oof!" Malfoy didn't get to finish his sentence as Morgana lashed out, Biotic Shockwave blasting across the grass and colliding with the boy's chest, sending him flying a good ten feet. He scrambled to his feet and hopped onto the broom that he had clutched in his hand. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well, but Morgana didn't care. A strand of Magic lashed out and took up a broom, yanking it to the pissed off Spectre. Without hesitation, she hopped on and blasted through the air toward the bone-white pureblood. In the back of her mind, Morgana noticed that she was flying perfectly without being taught, it was easy, the feeling of freedom felt amazing. However, rage overrode wonder as she chased the boy across the sky, Flares flying by his head as they flew.

 _ **Draco Malfoy**_

This was impossible! Potter, a girl who didn't know the first thing about flying, was not only out-flying him at every turn, she was throwing orbs of purple energy around like it was nothing, the orbs exploding in the distance as they missed. He swerved left and right as the blasts flew by him. He risked a look over his shoulder and nearly fell off his broom at the look of unfettered rage on the girl's face. He couldn't evade forever so he did the only thing he could think of and threw Longbottom's Remembrall as hard as he could away from him, the crimson-haired girl immediately abandoning her pursuit to chase the orb. He grinned to himself, both in relief and satisfaction. However, that satisfaction faded as the Girl-Who-Lived pulled up from a dive with glass orb in hand, landing lightly as her magic faded away, leaving the girl looking tired but triumphant. _Just what in the name of Merlin's beard is that girl? No eleven-year-old is that strong or skilled at Eleven_. His thoughts were interrupted as he landed when Professor McGonagall came out of the door and called the girl's name. His grin returned full force.

 ** _Morgana Potter (Shepard)_**

Morgana was angry, but she was also exhausted. Her body wasn't used to so using so much magical and Biotic energy at once and it was showing. She was barely paying attention as her fellow students argued with her Head of House, nor as the teacher led her through the halls of Hogwarts, whether heading back to the common room to collect her things or her office or whatever. Morgana was too tired to really think about it. Currently the only things on her mind were going to check on Neville to return his glass ball, which was still clench in her fist, and how good it had felt to let loose, to fly as naturally as breathing. How she was that good at flying, she didn't know. When flying the Kodiak, she had nearly crashed more than once. So why was she so good at flying a broom?

The exhausted commander was shaken from her tired thoughts as she bumped into McGonagall's stationary form. The professor turned to look at her, looking rather odd before realizing how tired the girl was. She knelt so that their eyes were level, grass green meeting dull emerald green. "Are you alright, Ms. Potter?" asked the Transfiguration teacher, watching the girl carefully.

Morgana nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am. Just tired is all. I've never been that angry before so my body's not used to that much power being pumped through it all at once." She said truthfully, too tired to be worried about much else. The old woman nodded, putting her hands on her shoulders. "Once we're done, we'll take you up to the hospital wing so you can get some rest," said Professor McGonagall in a soft tone that doesn't seem to quite fit her. Morgana nodded slowly and leaned against the wall, suddenly too tired to stand. McGonagall pushed open the door next to them and stuck her head in. Morgana vaguely heard the older woman asking Professor Flitwick for someone called Wood. A burly looking Gryffindor boy stepped out of the class looking very confused. McGonagall helped Morgana to her feet and pulled the girl along.

After a few short minutes, they reached a class room, the room empty but for Peeves, who looked to be writing rather inventive words on the chalkboard. Morgana couldn't help herself and giggled, filing the creative curse words away for later use. The poltergeist looked to the crimson-haired girl and gave her a deep bow, before saluting to McGonagall and zooming out the window. McGonagall looked to the exhausted girl for a moment before pushing both students into the room and shutting the door.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's confused expression turned to delight while Morgana just looked between the two in confusion, too tired to recall what Ron had told her about Quidditch.

"Are you serious, Professor?" asked Wood, sounding a bit too excited for Morgana's liking

"Absolutely," the older woman answered crisply, a small grin on her face. "She's a natural. I've never seen anything like it before. Was that your first time on a broom, Potter?" McGonagall was sounding extremely excited, which was frankly freaking out the former-Spectre just a bit, since she was used to the almost Military strictness that the woman usually showed. Morgana nodded numbly, eyes steadily growing heavier by the moment.

"She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive directly after chasing Mr. Malfoy through the air with more skill than I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life." McGonagall told Wood excitedly. "Didn't even scratch herself. I don't know anyone who could've done it."

Wood was looking as though every holiday in existence plus his birthday had come all at once. It was rather freaky.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly, dark brown eyes wide.

Wood's the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall explained quickly.

"She's definitely got the build of a Seeker," Wood said, circling the tired girl. "Light, speedy, agile too if what you said is true. We'll need to get her a decent broom though. Nimbus Two Thousand or Cleansweep Seven. At least"

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the First-Year rule. Heaven-" Professor McGonagall didn't get to finish as Morgana cut her off right there. "I'm sorry to interrupt Professor, but I'm going to pass out now." With that, her world went black.

When her eyes opened again, three very familiar faces were looking down at her. She smiled tiredly at Neville's concerned look, raising her hand where his Remembrall was still clenched. "You dropped this, Nev." She said quietly, smiling as the boy took his property back. Turning her head, she looked at the familiar face of Karin Chakwas. Familiar, but different at the same time. This Karin didn't have the lines on her face from years of military service, just those from old age. "So, doc?" she smiled ruefully. "Am I gonna live?"

Chakwas gave a light laugh. "Oh yes Ms. Potter, you'll live. You're simply suffering from Magical Overload. A common effect from young witches or wizards using too much magic for their young bodies to handle. You'll be exhausted for the rest of the day, but you'll be fine." She patted the girl on the shoulder, a bright smile on her face. "And thank you for setting Mr. Longbottom's wrist, that made my job much easier."

Professor McGonagall looked over the matron's shoulder. "Worry not, Ms. Potter. You just rest, you won't have to worry about school work until you wake up."

Morgana nodded sleepily before passing out once more.

 _ **Liara T'Soni**_

The blue haired witch walked through the halls toward the Hospital Wing. The whole school had heard how Morgana Potter had become enraged toward Draco Malfoy as he laughed at Neville Longbottom's injury, how she had begun throwing around magic with ease, how the clear skies had become overcast and stormy in seconds, thunder rumbling across the skies. The students already had a nickname for her. The Wrath of the Storm or Storm Rage. Padma had heard from her sister Parvarti and had told Liara, who had immediately headed toward the hospital wing, knowing that that much magic in such a young body would exhaust the girl. She pushed open the large doors of the hospital wing to see Madam Chakwas leaning over the unconscious girl-hero.

"Is she alright?" asked Liara, standing at the foot of the girl's bed. Chakwas stood up straight and smiled at the girl.

"She'll be fine. I gave her a potion to help her sleep. Nothing to worry about, Ms. T'Soni." Said the old matron, casting a look to the crimson-haired girl asleep on the bed. "Best to let her rest for now." The older woman walked toward her office, patting the navy-haired girl on the shoulder as she passed.

Liara nodded in resignation before taking a seat at the side of Morgana's bed. The-Girl-Who-Lived was an enigma. She was intelligent, loyal and humble all while at the same time being possibly as strong as Professor Dumbledore. The abilities she had presented during her attack on Malfoy were unheard of, eruptions of power acting as a cascading shockwave, missiles made of purple-black energy. Where did they come from? From what the Heir to the T'Soni bloodline had heard was that Morgana's magic was emerald green, the same color as her eyes, yet the attacks were purple.

It made no sense. None whatsoever. Liara sighed. She normally loved mysteries, enjoying the challenge of unraveling the truth. But here… something about Morgana Potter made her magic jump in response to her. The kind-hearted girl had helped her more than once during Transfiguration and the navy-blue haired witch had caught her staring as though she were looking at someone special each time. And her eyes… while the emerald color in the crimson haired girl's eyes were enchanting, it was what was behind them that confused her. The T'Soni family had a gift for sensing emotions, and Liara could sense much pain in the Potter girl. A hurricane of pain, and sorrow, hate and rage pushed behind a wall of steel. So much that it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Liara sighed again. What a mess…

 _ **Albus Dumbledore**_

 _What a mess…_ thought the elderly wizard as he read through yet another angry letter from Ms. Parkinson's parents, requesting he expel Ms. Potter for attacking a student. One that had laughed at another's pain and had angered a young girl with more power than her body could handle at one time. He had authorized Minerva giving the girl a Nimbus Two Thousand for her new Quidditch career, mostly to offer an olive branch to the girl for intruding into her mind at the Star-of-Term feast. The girl could quite possibly rival a dragon in raw magical strength, which made her a very dangerous enemy to have. He had to find a way to either place a new block on her magic or get back in the girl's good graces to guide her on the right path to the final confrontation with Lord Voldemort. The question was, how to do that? The old man sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He hated having a child fight a war, but for the Greater Good, there was no other choice.

* * *

 _ **Morgana Potter (Shepard)**_

Morgana sat in the Great Hall that night, having been discharged from the hospital wing just a few minutes before, piling as much food as she could onto her plate to replace the energy she had spent chasing that whelp Malfoy through the skies. She was mentally berating herself for losing control the way she did. From what everyone had said, she had been launching Flares like crazy. Not good at all, she could've killed Draco, and as much as she hated the arrogant prick, she didn't want him dead. However, one good thing had happened that day. She was the new Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, youngest in a century according to Oliver Wood, who despite being a good guy, he seemed a bit obsessed with winning the Quidditch Cup at the end of the year.

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed as he heard the news.

Morgana shushed him, looking around as the rest of the hall continued eating. She had unfortunately missed her rendezvous with Liara, considering she'd been unconscious from Magical Overload up until a few minutes before dinnertime. She pulled Ron down low and spoke in low tones.

"I start training next week," she said in a whisper. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants me to be the team's secret weapon."

The fiery haired boy nodded. "He's right on that, you should've seen yourself. I've never seen anyone fly like that on a broom that old, you're a natural!"

Morgana grinned at the compliment, still surprised at how well she flew with so little training. The only thing she'd ever been good at was fighting and she'd been one of the best at it, killing enough enemies to populate a planet. But this was different. Fighting made her feel powerful, like she could take on anything. But flying…it made her feel alive, free even. It was a good feeling. She was shaken from her thoughts as Fred and George Weasley sat down next to her. She had finally been able to tell the two apart, Fred having eyes several shades lighter than George, with George having a small scar under his right eye.

"Well done, Morgana," They said in tandem, mischievous grins on their faces. "Wood's just told us, we're on the team too. Beaters. It's our job to make sure you don't get yourself killed out there" Morgana grinned at the two and nodded.

"Well then I'd say I'm in good hands," said Morgana, a gleam in her emerald eyes.

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred as he looked to his twin. "Gryffindor hasn't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, 'Gana, Wood was practically dancing when he told us."

Morgana shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I couldn't really see myself while I was chasing Draco."

The twins nodded and left, patting the girl on the back as they passed her, talking about their friend Lee Jordan finding a hidden passage. They hadn't been gone more than a few moments before they were replaced by the Three Stooges. Draco and his cronies waltzed up, looking extremely pleased with themselves.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting a train back to the Muggles?" said the Pureblood in a hearty tone.

"That funny, Draco, coming from a coward who can't even face me without your goon squad," said Morgana with an icy tone, not even looking up from her meal as she spoke. She knew they couldn't do anything in full view of the High Table. Most Crabbe and Goyle were good for were standing around looking intimidating. They were about as intimidating as that drugged up Volus back on Illium. At most they made her laugh. At worst, they annoyed her.

"I can take you any time I want," Malfoy said, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before?" Morgana held up a hand to stop Ron's retort before he said something stupid.

"You aren't worth my time, Draco," she said coolly, finally looking up at the boy's now red face. "First off, you need Tweedled Dum and Tweedled Dee here to feel powerful. You expect people to respect you when you haven't earned that respect. Secondly, you don't know any real magic. Most you could do is shoot sparks at me. While I could obliterate you with a single attack." Her face turned into a feral grin. "Not to mention, I'm not an idiot. I know that you plan to challenge me, then go tell Filch that someone is heading to the location of your choice after curfew to cause trouble." Her grin widened as the boy's red face grew even redder, this time from embarrassment for being found out so easily. "Come back when you have a bit more experience. I've dealt with bastards a hundred times as cunning as you could ever hope to be." She turned back to her plate, no longer acknowledging the Pureblood as he turned away dejectedly and headed back to his own table. She looked over to an awe-struck Ron with a small smirk on her face.

"How did you know? You couldn't have possibly known that was his plan…" Ron sputtered as he looked at Morgana in a new light. The crimson-haired girl grinned wider.

"It was simple, he's not as subtle as he thought. He's under the impression that everyone isn't as smart as he is, so he could trick anyone to get into trouble to keep his hands clean. However, I've dealt with actual back-stabbing politicians before. He's got nothing on them." With that, she continued eating, ignoring Ron's insistently jabbing to get her to explain. She never noticed Hermione narrowing her eyes at her comment, the bushy haired girl's interest piqued.

That night, Morgana was headed out for her nightly walk when click - the lamp next to the portrait hole clicked on and Hermione Granger was sitting in the chair, looking very cross.

"I knew you were heading out. You're heading to that duel, aren't you?" the girl accused, flinching a bit when emerald eyes pinned her in her place.

"I'm not, actually. You know for a fact that I have trouble sleeping. You know that I head out every night to walk around until I'm tired enough to sleep without having nightmares." Morgana narrowed her eyes at the bushy-haired girl before smacking her forehead. "Ron already left, didn't he?" she asked, fearing the answer.

When the bookworm nodded, the Spectre sighed, cursing under her breath as she pushed the portrait open and stepping out, holding it open for Hermione to step out and was about to close it when she heard what sounded like someone sleeping. Motioning for Hermione to hold the door open, she squatted down and shook the snoring Neville Longbottom awake. The boy jolted awake and looked about blearily, eyes widening as he spotted the crimson-haired girl. He jumped to his feet, thanking her profusely for her help earlier. The Commander simply smiled and hugged the chubby boy, pushing him through the portrait hole and reminding him that the password for that week was 'pig snout' before letting the picture frame swing closed. Motioning with her head, she led Hermione through the castle she had become so familiar with, following a twisting path to the school's trophy room, where she had a sneaking feeling that Ron would be there, trying to defend either hers or Gryffindor's honor. The kid was courageous. Stupid, but courageous.

The girls arrived at the door to the trophy room and slowly opened the oak door to see Ron standing still as a statue as Filch's voice filtered through the room, telling his annoying cat, Mrs. Norris, to find whoever was in the room. Not waiting a single second, she moved forward and clamped a hand over the red head's mouth, keeping his wand arm pinned behind him as she pulled him out the door and into the hall. Releasing him, she didn't give him a chance to ask a question as she pushed both him and Hermione along, getting them as far away from the grouchy old caretaker as fast as she could. The three of them ran for minutes, Ron and Hermione following the Spectre as she led them through the maze of corridors until they finally stopped in the Charms corridor, Morgana pushing a door open and letting the two slip in before she followed, closing the door with a click.

Ron moved to say something when Morgana's fist collided with his jaw, knocking the boy to the floor as the N7 operative stood over him with a bone chilling glare on her face as Hermione gaped at the crimson-haired girl. "What the actual hell were you thinking, Ron?" She demanded, rage boiling to the surface at his idiot move.

Ron had enough sense to look ashamed, clutching his throbbing jaw as he answered. "After what you said, I tried to ignore him. But after dinner, Malfoy challenged me to a duel, he insulted my family and you. I had to step up!" The boy was nearly shouting by the end of his explanation. Morgana shook her head in exasperation.

"Ron, he only insulted me and your family because he knew it would draw you in." she muttered with a shake of her head. "Standing up for your friends and family isn't a bad thing, but when you make a stupid move like this, all it does is get you in trouble for no good reason." She extended her hand, offering her help to her first friend at Hogwarts besides Hagrid. Ron looked from her hand to her face, where emerald eyes watched him softly. His lips lifted into a small smile as he accepted her hand as she yanked him to his feet with surprising strength for someone her age. Any words they would've shared was postponed as a spinning orange circle appeared over Morgana's left hand. Releasing Ron's hand, she tapped the circle, her Omni-Tool springing to life with a map of the floor the trio are on. Hermione immediately moved forward.

"What is that?" the girl asked, eyes glued to the object in question.

"My Omni-Tool. It was in my vault at Gringotts." Morgana answered shortly, eyes flicking to the bookworm of a girl for a moment. Looking back to her Omni-Tool, she cursed under her breath as dots marking Filch and Snape approach from two different directions, leaving only one corridor open to them. "I managed to put trackers on all the teachers. Helps when I'm walking around at night."

She quickly shut down the tool and motioned for her fellow Gryffindors to follow her. Checking her corners, she leads the way down the open corridor, weaving her way through the castle, occasionally checking her tool only to curse as she saw that the teachers were only getting closer. Soon, the trio had reached a door she had been meaning to investigate for some time. The door to the forbidden corridor. She grabbed the handle and turned it, only for it to click. Locked. Once again, the Spectre cursed as she took a step back, ready to kick the door down with a biotic-enhanced kick. Before she could even lift her leg however, Hermione pushed her out of the way.

"Oh, move over!" The girl cried as she whipped out her wand, a light brown object with vine engravings in the wood, not unlike the silver engraved in her own wand. Hermione tapped the lock and spoke in a loud whisper. "Alohomora!" The lock clicked in an instant and swung open, the three students rushing through and half slammed the door shut. As Ron and Hermione listened at the door to Snape and Filch argue about students out of bed, Morgana's brow furrowed. Dumbledore said this corridor was off limits. If so, then how was Hermione able to unlock the door with a such a low-level spell.

Morgana was snapped out of her thoughts as what felt like warm air brushed against the back of her neck. She looked up to see Ron and Hermione staring at something behind her with looks of pure terror etched on their faces. The Spectre slowly turned around to see an honest-to-god Cerberus staring down at her with three pairs of eyes. The three-headed-hound was dark brown, almost black, with three pairs of amber eyes that looked rather surprised to see them. She waved a hand behind her, motioning for the two terrified Gryffindors to remain right where they were She stood absolutely still as the three heads pressed close to her, sniffing loudly as the hound (or was it hounds?) took in her scent. Having dealt with canines before, (did varren count as canines?) she knew that if she lashed out, she'd be torn apart. After several moments, the dog heads pulled back and looked at her with curiosity.

She let out a sigh of relief as the giant dog's tail began to wag excitedly at the prospect of new playmates. She slowly rose her hand and all three heads shot forward, each fighting for attention. It was so comical to see, she couldn't help but laugh. A giant three headed dog, acting like three excitable puppies trying to be petted. While the heads were distracted, she checked her omni-tool for any teachers close by. Seeing that Filch was now two floors up and Snape seemed to be on his way back to the dungeons, she gave a sharp whistle, catching the hound's attention. She pointed to the ground. "Lay down," she said in her Commander tone. The dog immediately obeyed, tail wagging excitedly as she slowly moved forward to pet the middle head's snout. "You're just a big softy, aren't you?" she asked the Cerberus with a smile. The hound huffed and tried to lick her. Morgana jumped away from its tongue with a laugh. "I can't stay buddy," she told the hound as she slowly backed up toward the door. "But I'll come back later so we can play."

She motioned behind her back with her right hand for the two behind her to open the door. The dog whined pathetically as she backed out the door, giving a quiet bark as Ron slammed the door shut. Both Ron and Hermione let out gasps of relief while Morgana simply began to laugh to herself at what had just occurred. Soon, she was doubled over, clutching at her stomach as she held in her laughter to keep any teachers that might hear her oblivious to the situation. Ron and Hermione both shared a confused look before staring at the laughing crimson-haired girl as though she were stark-raving-mad.

Spending several minutes trying to calm herself, Morgana finally began walking back to the common room, Ron and Hermione following close behind, both still staring at her as though she were crazy. If only they knew…

"Dumbledore goes on about dying a painful death, and he has a big puppy dog with three heads hiding behind a door that a first year could open," Morgana scoffed at the idiocy of the sentence. "He really is insane…"

They were nearly back to the common room when Ron finally spoke. "How'd you keep that thing from killing you?" he asked, light blue eyes wide. The girl shrugged.

"Giant or not, one head or three, a dog is still a dog." She said nonchalantly. "One simply has to know how to deal with animals. I had a friend, Jack, who owned a dog like that. Absolutely terrifying if he didn't know you. Instant he got to know you a bit, he was the biggest puppy dog around." She explained, remembering Eezo the biotic varren. "Well I say friend, but Jack was more like a little sister with a lot of issues." Shepard sighed as memories of her talks with the Psychotic Biotic in the bowls of the SR2 and at the apartment that Anderson had given her. Hermione interrupted her thoughts.

"You said…'had a friend'…what happened to her?" the girl asked hesitantly. Morgana froze in place, memories of Jack pulling Liara and Garrus onto the Normandy before her charge into the beam leading up to the Citadel.

Morgana shook her head and kept moving. "She's gone now. Alive or dead, I don't know. Let's leave it at that," she said curtly, essentially shutting down any follow up questions, not knowing that she had piqued the interest and suspicion of Hermione and Ron both. Before long, they had reached the Gryffindor Common Room, given the Fat Lady the password and headed up to their rooms, Hermione going on about a trapdoor beneath the Cerberus' feet. Morgana had mulled the information over in her head as she lay on her bed. Whatever Dumbledore had Hagrid retrieve from Gringotts must have been placed beyond the trapdoor beneath the Cerberus, undoubtedly surrounded behind more traps and puzzles. Though if the front door had been anything were to go by, they were puzzles that first-years could bypass, so it wouldn't be too difficult for her to get through once she decided to poke around some more. With that final thought, she fell asleep, her night blissfully dreamless for the first time in a while, her mind too exhausted to torment her again.

* * *

The next morning, Ron and Morgana walked to the Great Hall discussing the night before, though it was mostly Ron pestering her about her friend Jack. As with the night before, she shut him down, telling him that she'd talk when she was ready. From there he began pestering her about the three-headed-dog and how she'd tamed it so quickly. She, of course, clarified that it was already tamed and trained. She had simply gained its trust. Hermione had passed them with a huff, obviously not happy with either of them for continuing to talk about the unauthorized excursion.

Malfoy had looked extremely surprised and disappointed when Ron had walked in, looking tired but relatively cheerful. They had sat down while discussing what could possibly be beyond the trapdoor, Morgana sharing her intelligence on the object Hagrid had taken from Gringotts and had shared her theory as well. They had spent the first few minutes sharing ideas, Hermione glancing at them every so often with a rather cross look in her eye as she refused to say anything to either of them. Ron had taken it as a bonus, since he was under the impression that she was a bossy know-it-all. Morgana was rather disheartened about it, as she had been under the impression that they were getting closer to being friends.

As the owls flooded the Great Hall with morning mail, a very odd sight attracted the Hall's attention as Garrus flew through the air clutching a long, thin parcel in his talons. The owl flared his wings at the last second and dropped the parcel right in front of her, knocking her bacon everywhere. The owl had a prideful look in his eye that had Morgana thinking that this would be the moment that her Turian friend would've said 'Scoped and Dropped' just to be a bit of a prick. The owl dropped a letter on the package, grabbed a large slice of bacon and took off, presumably to head back to the Owlery. Morgana grabbed the letter and opened it up. It said:

 ** _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._**

 ** _It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch Field at seven o'clock for your first training session,_**

 ** _Professor M. McGonagall._**

Morgana blinked rapidly. She had completely forgotten that she was part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, having passed out just after she had accepted the offer. She handed the note to Ron as she ran her free hand over the broom, her magic pulsing in response to the spells and charms woven into the wood. The two red-heads stood up and took the parcel from the hall quickly, trying to head up to the Common room to unwrap her new broom before their first class for the day. However, somehow Draco and the two stooges had gotten ahead of them. Malfoy attempted to take the broom from Morgana and got a kick between the legs for his troubles. The trolls started forward, only to stop as the Spectre pinned them with a heated glare and the pair were reminded of the day before, when the crimson-haired girl had tossed their leader around without breaking a sweat. Showing a rare form of wisdom, they moved out of her way, allowing she and Ron to quickly head up to the common room, Morgana heading up to the girl's dormitory to place the broom under her bed. Half way back down the stairs, an angry voice came from the portrait hole.

"So, I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?" Hermione Granger stood in the portrait hole looking very cross. Morgana blinked at the girl.

"It's not a reward for breaking the rules, Hermione," she said, shaking her head calmly. "Professor McGonagall simply saw my natural skill while I happened to be breaking the rules." Hermione seemed to accept Morgana's words, if only just, when Ron had to open his big mouth.

"I thought you weren't talking to us," the fiery haired boy sneered. "Don't stop now, it's doing us so much good." Morgana's palm met her forehead as Hermione glared at the boy before stalking off in a huff. The Spectre-turned witch had smacked Ron upside the head before heading out to her next class.

The rest of the day went smoothly, even Potions where Malfoy had tried to sabotage her potion in retribution for her kick to his family jewels. It hadn't ended the way he had hoped. His consistent yammering had caused him to lose focus on his own fever potion, which in turn caused it to explode and made everyone who got splashed turn bright red and start sweating profusely.

Thirty minutes before seven o'clock, Morgana headed down to the Quidditch pitch. The field was massive, easily the size of an American football stadium. Hundreds of seats rose high above the field so that spectators could see what was occurring during the game. At either end of the field were three tall poles of varying height, presumably each representing a different point set. Morgana looked down at the elegant broom in her hand, her mind wandering. What would it be like to fly on a broom without her mind being clouded by rage? She couldn't help herself. She mounted her new broom and took off hard, moving like a bullet through the air, weaving in and out of the hoops with the slightest motion. She laughed, it felt incredible, like every problem or doubt just fell away as she flew around the pitch. She flew non-stop for nearly twenty minutes before she heard Oliver Wood calling up to her.

Flying down, she landed a few feet from the older boy, Wood grinning almost madly at the sight of her flying skills.

"I can see what McGonagall was talking about," said Wood, eyes glinting. "You really are a natural. I'm only going to teach you the rules tonight, then you'll be joining us for team practice three times a week."

Morgana had grinned at that, relishing the chance to have a bit more to do in her routine. Being a soldier, she was used to doing some form of exercise for most of the day when not deployed. Even during her time as a guest of the Alliance after she had returned from the Suicide Mission at the galactic center, she had been allowed to exercise and keep a full schedule while she had been awaiting her trial.

Wood went on to explain the basics of Quidditch, most of which Ron had told her about during the last couple of months. Seven members on each team. Each team had three Chasers; those meant to score with a large, bright red ball called a Quaffle. Two Beaters; the ones who were responsible for keeping a pair of enchanted iron balls called Bludgers from knocking players off their brooms by hitting the things with a pair of metal wrapped bats while aiming to knock players form the opposite team off their brooms. One Keeper, being Wood; essentially a goalie. And a Seeker, her. Her only job was to spot the golf ball sized gold orb called the Snitch as it zipped around the field. The game didn't end until on side caught the Snitch. The Snitch itself cost an extra hundred and fifty points, so the team that caught it was usually the victor of the game.

Being as dark as it was, they used ordinary golf balls for Morgana to practice. She realized very quickly that the now natural Cerberus augmentations in her brain and eyes gave her bit of an unfair advantage, however she no longer cared since she was at a school that taught freaking magic. Morgana didn't miss a single ball and Wood had praised her after the training session was over. "We're going to win the Quidditch Cup for sure," he said as they began to put up the equipment. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up better than Charlie Weasley, and he could've played for any team he wanted if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Morgana quickly adjusted to her new schedule, training three days a week with the rest of the team (The girls had all praised her skill after her first training session once they went to shower before heading back to the school), working on her homework before heading up to do her evening exercises and wandering the halls of the school at night. She often visited the Cerberus, the two of them becoming fast friends as she played with the oversized, three-headed puppy. The castle felt more like a home than she'd had in three years, almost comparing to her apartment on the Citadel or the Normandy. Almost.

On Halloween morning, the school woke to the smell of baking pumpkins wafting up from the kitchens. The smell had immediately had her drooling at the scent of food. Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that they were ready to begin practicing the Levitation Charm, something the other students had been dying to try out ever since the diminutive teacher had made Neville's pet toad zoom around the classroom about two weeks before hand.

Morgana had been paired with Seamus Finnigan, who had time and time again proven to have issues with his magic, often causing explosions with the simplest of spells. If she were being honest, she would've preferred to be paired with Liara, who sat across with her paired with another Ravenclaw girl. Ron on the other hand was paired with Hermione. Neither seemed very happy about the arrangement, considering that Hermione hadn't said a word to either of them since Morgana's broom had arrived, something that Morgana had tried to fix several times, though it seemed that the bookworm of a girl was as hard-headed as a juvenile Krogan.

Flitwick had reminded them of the 'swish and flick' movement they had been practicing for the past two weeks and set them to work. Morgana spent her time primarily trying to help Seamus get his feather to float, only for the thing to catch fire from her own magic. Seamus had let out a bark of laughter even as he doused the flames, Morgana's face bright red in embarrassment at her mistake. Ron didn't seem to be having much more luck than she was the next table over.

The red headed boy seemingly forgot the motion they had been taught and was swinging his long arms like a windmill, nearly striking her in the head several times. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione snapped. "You're doing it wrong," Morgana heard her say in an aggravated tone. "First off, you're not trying to put someone's eye out, so stop swinging your arm so much. It's a simple swish and flick motion with your wrist." Morgana snuck a peek and winced at Ron's red ears and neck. "Secondly, it's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long"

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron all but snarled, obviously forgetting what Morgana had told him about Hermione trying to prove that she belonged in Hogwarts with the rest of them.

Hermione through her hair back, rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and said very clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather the two were sharing floated up easily, hovering about four feet above their heads. Flitwick immediately began to praise Hermione, since she was the first one to manage it. Liara had floated her feather next, a proud grin on her face as her partner gave a squeal of joy and hugged her enthusiastically. Ron was rather cross by the end of the class.

"She's a nightmare, honestly," he ranted to Morgana on their way to Transfiguration. "It's no wonder no one can stand her."

Morgana opened her mouth to tell him off for judging the Muggleborn girl so harshly when someone knocked into her as they ran passed them. Morgana was shocked to see that it was Hermione, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes as she hurried by. As Morgana took a step to go after the girl, a gentle hand gripped her wrist. Looking down, she was surprised to see Liara standing next to her, staring after the crying girl.

"I'll go after her, don't worry." Said the Ravenclaw as emerald eyes met sapphire. Emotion flared in Morgana's chest as she saw so much of her Liara in those eyes and had to restrain herself from pulling the blue-haired girl into a tight hug. Instead, she nodded in agreement and watched as the T'Soni girl moved gracefully through the crowd after Hermione. Morgana turned her emerald gaze to Ron, who swallowed thickly at the anger in her eyes.

"Ron," she began, taking a deep breath to keep from shouting at him. "If you have nothing nice to say, don't open your mouth at all." She didn't give him a chance to respond as she hurried on. She didn't talk to Ron for the rest of the day, not trusting herself to keep from punching him again.

Neither Hermione nor Liara showed up for the next class and weren't seen for the rest of the afternoon. Morgana was getting slightly worried. She knew that Liara could take care of herself, having felt the girl's powerful magic whenever they had been paired up in class. But it didn't stop the concern from blooming in her heart. On her way to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, she overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girl's bathroom with Liara keeping her company. Liara had apparently ordered they be left alone while Hermione dealt with her emotions. Morgana spotted Ron looking distinctly uncomfortable at the news. _As he should, treating her the way he did,_ thought Morgana crossly. Her worry for the girl stayed with her during the feast, making much of the food taste almost like ash in her mouth. Her bad mood took a dive when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, turban askew and a look of terror etched onto his face. His words made her heart stop in an instant.

The man slumped against the High Table and gasped, "Troll! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know!" The man proceeded to drop to the ground in a dead faint. There was a moment of silence, the pandemonium. As the students panicked and rushed to get up, Morgana's face paled. She had come across a section on trolls while reading up on facts about Cerberus hounds. They weren't the smartest creatures around, but they were incredibly strong and the older ones often had a resistance to some magics. She was snapped out of her fearful trance as several firecrackers went off and Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to lead the students back to their common rooms.

Percy immediately began to order the first-year students around as the Great Hall rumbled from so many moving as once. On the way out of the hall, Morgana grabbed Ron by the arm and pulled him aside into an alcove, letting the hordes of students move past them.

"Ron, Hermione and Liara don't know about the Troll!" she said quickly, the Weasley boy's eyes widening at the information. "We have to warn them before they run into it themselves!"

Ron's eyes hardened in determination and he nodded. She gave him a firm nod and brought up her omni-tool, searching for the trackers she had placed on Liara and Hermione both. Spotting them in the bathroom just a few corridors over, she set out quickly, Ron close behind as she moved. They had to hide behind a suit of armor as Professor Snape moved passed, heading in the direction of the third-floor corridor. At any other time, she would've wondered why he was heading there instead of the dungeons where the Troll was supposed to be, but currently she was more concerned about Liara and Hermione's safety.

Ron and Morgana moved for only a few moments more when the crimson-haired Spectre held up a hand. Her enhanced nose picked up a scent that reminded her of Thresher Maw guts in Tuchanka heat. Her ears picked up low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic, leathery feet. Ron pulled on her arm and pointed down the passage way on the left-hand side. Something big was moving toward them. They sunk back into the shadows and watched as the Troll lumbered into view. Twelve feet tall, the beast was granite gray, its bulky body covered in lumps, giving it the appearance of a boulder with a tiny coconut for a head. Its legs were short and thick, like tree trunks with flat, spikey feet. Morgana slapped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from gagging. It smelled even worse up close. Its absurdly long arms dragged a massive wooden club behind it, scraping the ground as it lumbered closer. The creature stopped at a doorway about eight meters down the hall and looked in. It waggled its goofy looking ear as though contemplating something before moving into the room.

Morgana had the thought to lock the beast in for a moment before she stiffened as a scream; one filled with terror; echoed from the room. It was the girls' bathroom. " **HERMIONE! LIARA!** " Morgana cried, already moving toward the door as fast as she could. Upon entering the doorway, she was greeted with the sight of the troll swinging its club at the shimmering bubble of blue energy. Liara had put up a barrier to prevent the troll from striking them. Unfortunately, as strong as her magic was, the troll was physically stronger. The club collided with the shield and shattered it, continuing to collide with the right side of Liara's body, sending the girl soaring into the opposite wall with a sickening _crack!_

Morgana's blood ran cold as Liara's limp body struck the floor. She looked to Hermione, the girl frozen in fear and horror, then to Ron, who simply nodded and moved forward, calling to the troll loudly while picking up random bits of debris to throw at the beast in order to distract it. The Spectre bolted to Liara's side and picked the girl up, resting the navy-blue haired girl on her lap as she searched for a pulse, sighing in relief as she found one. It was weak, but there. She was alive, for now. That relief was replaced by rage and fear as she heard the club collide with the tiled floor and Ron let out several curses.

She set Liara down carefully, brushing the girl's navy-blue hair from her face carefully before standing. She dug into her magic as she raised her right hand, palm up to stomach height, pulling the energy forth as she focused on her right hand. It was a technique she had originally developed for her biotics, an attack unique to her. It was based off something she had seen on the Television on Mindoir with her younger brother, Max, and had developed it years later with her Liara's help. The emerald magic swirled, coalescing in her hand as a swirling orb of power. However, as her rage and fear grew as thoughts of the possibility of failure ran through her mind, the magic became chaotic, hissing and spitting as the emerald energy became a sickly black-red color.

The air screeched in protest at the magic swirling in her palm, the sound attracting the troll's attention, the beast abandoning its pursuit of Ron and turning to her. At the sight of the spiraling orb in her hand, the troll roared, taking a stomping step toward her, club raised in preparation to crush her. It was too late. Images of all those close to her that she had failed to save flicked past her eyes. Her family on Mindoir, Private Jenkins, Kaiden, Mordin, Thane, Anderson. Never again. She would not lose anyone else. A rage-filled roar exploded from her throat as she charged, ignoring Ron and Hermione as they screamed for her to stop. She pushed her magic to her legs and pushed off hard, her arm thrusting the spiraling orb of black-red energy toward the troll. The troll never knew the danger it was in.

The orb collided with the leathery hide of the troll and began to tear into it, the wind within the orb made razor sharp by magic. For a split second, nothing happened. Then BOOM! The orb detonated, blasting a hole through the troll's chest and knocking the beast out of the bathroom, dead before it touched the stone floor of the corridor. She didn't acknowledge the pain from her arm from the strain using that attack with such a frail body. She looked to Ron and motioned her head toward Hermione, telling him to grab her. He nodded numbly and moved quickly, throwing Hermione's arm over his shoulder and carefully lifted her up. Morgana moved over to Liara and carefully lifted her off the dusty ground, careful to keep from jostling her injuries. She motioned with her head again as she moved toward the hole were the door was supposed to be, telling the boy to follow.

They were barely stepping over the troll's corpse when the trio heard a gasp of surprise. Their heads snapped right to see Professors McGonagall, Snap and Quirrell standing just down the hall, staring at the girl in astonishment.

 _ **Minerva McGonagall**_

Minerva was many things. Strict, rational and stoic to name a few. But when a scream could be heard echoing through the castle, she had felt her blood run cold. She, Severus and Quirinus had bolted toward the source. As they reached the corridor in question, they were shocked to see the Troll they had been searching for in the dungeons lying dead on the stone floor with a hole blown through its chest, right where its heart should've been. What had made her heart nearly stop was when Morgana Potter, The-Girl-Who-Lived, stepped out of the ruined doorway of the girls' bathroom carrying Ravenclaw student Liara T'Soni. For a split second, Minerva didn't see the intelligent and confident girl she'd come to enjoy in her classes. Instead, a grown woman stood in her place. Standing at least six feet tall and covered from the neck down in midnight black armor, the woman's pale skin shown in the moonlight that was leaking in from the window. Messy crimson hair framed her elegant face as piercing emerald eyes scanned her surroundings. The woman's elegant face was marked with battle scars, her eyes intense from what could only be the pain of war. The armor she wore was unlike any Minerva had ever laid eyes upon. Midnight black with a stripe of crimson going down her right arm, a crimson N7 insignia emblazoned on her chest plate, this woman was an intimidating sight. Then Minerva blinked and young Morgana was standing there again, watching her with a blank face, eyes void of all emotion as she began to move down the hall in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Minerva wondered for a moment if she'd seen anything at all.

Severus was the first to break the silence.

"POTTER!" he snarled as the girl walked by him without giving him a second glance. "What on earth did you do?!" Minerva frowned at the man. They had obviously been through an ordeal and he was acting as though they were to blame.

The girl kept moving, her Weasley friend trailing behind her with Ms. Granger's arm over his shoulder. She didn't stop at all, instead speaking in a toneless voice as she moved.

"Ron said something about Hermione he shouldn't have just after Charms ended. She got upset about it and came to the bathroom to hide from everyone. Liara followed her to comfort her. They didn't hear about the Troll, so Ron and I decided to come looking for them. When we got here, the troll was already entering." Ms. Potter's voice began to choke up. "Liara tried to protect herself and Hermione with a magic barrier. The troll smashed it and her with one swing."

Minerva stiffened. That explained why Ms. T'Soni was unconscious and why young Morgana was moving so smoothly. She didn't want to aggravate her injuries.

"I had Ron distract the Troll while I checked Liara's vitals to ensure she was still alive. Once I had ensured that she was safe, I dealt with the troll." Finished Potter.

Minerva flinched at how cold and clinical the girl sounded. 'Dealt with…' an eleven-year-old witch had killed a fully-grown mountain troll in such a violent fashion to protect her friends. The elderly woman had heard from Albus about how powerful the girl was for her age and had seen her after the girl had attacked the Malfoy boy for laughing at young Longbottom getting hurt. Now…she moved with the efficiency of a veteran soldier as she continued to move. Just what was this girl…?

 _ **Morgana Potter (Shepard)**_

Morgana refused to stop even as Professor Snape snapped at her. She kept moving. After she had finished her explanation, she listened with half-an-ear as both Ron and Hermione spoke up in her defense when Snape started throwing around accusations about how they had gone looking for the troll in the hopes attracting the attention of their fellow students. She didn't respond when Professor McGonagall tried to pry into how she killed the troll from her, Ron and Hermione. Instead, she hastened her pace ever so slightly as she spotted a line of blood leaking from the corner of Liara's mouth. The teachers followed closely, finally noticing her urgency to get moving. McGonagall tried to take Liara from her, but she pulled the navy-blue haired girl closer to her chest and accelerated again.

Before long, they were outside the Hospital Wing. Professor McGonagall waved her wand and the doors slid open silently, Karin Chakwas rushing forward as Morgana moved over to a bed and gently set Liara down upon it. She took several steps back as the older woman began looking over Liara in a frenzy. Before she could ask if the blue-haired Ravenclaw would be alright, an iron grip clamped onto her arm. Instinct took over and she lashed out, left fist driving into her assailant's stomach before she rolled over his back as he hunched over. She pulled his arm up behind his back and shoved him into the wall next to Liara's bed. Snape groaned in discomfort as his arm was force up in a way it was not meant to go. Silence reigned as she breathed heavily, her adrenaline still pumping after the encounter with the troll.

"Touch me again," she hissed in the man's ear. "And I'll break you in half." She released Snape's arm and pushed away from him, instead turning to this world's Chakwas with the question on her face.

The older woman nodded quickly, hesitant smile on her face. "She'll be fine. The troll didn't hit her as hard as it could've," Chakwas said as she gently poured a golden potion down Liara's throat. "She'll have to stay here in the Hospital Wing for a few days, but she'll make a full recovery."

Morgana visibly relaxed at the news, sinking into a chair next to the unconscious girl's bedside with a sigh of relief. Behind her, the teachers all shared a concerned look as Doctor Chakwas moved to check on Ron and Hermione, sending a pointed glare in Snape's direction as she led the other two students to the hospital beds. McGonagall quickly moved to Morgana's side as Snape open his mouth, the crimson haired girl visibly tensing again as she saw the man's mouth opening to spit out more accusations.

"Morgana," the Transfiguration teacher said, using her first name for the first time since she'd met the woman. "How did you stop the Troll?" Emerald eyes met grass green as the girl turned her head to the woman, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Morgana thought fast and came up with the quickest answer. She extended her hand, palm up and focused on her magic. Within moments, the emerald green orb was spinning in her hand, the wind visibly spinning around the baseball sized ball of magic. "It's something I came up with at the beginning of the year," she said, uncomfortable with the lie, but it was better than telling them she was a reincarnated soldier from an alternate future where sentient machines were killing everyone. "I had an itching feeling that I'd get sucked into a stupid situation, so I came up with this just for the occasion." She let the orb fade as she watched the teacher's face.

She scowled as McGonagall frowned and said, "But you're safe here, there's no reason for you to feel as though you were in danger." The professor frowns and Morgana gave a harsh laugh and pinned the woman with her emerald gaze.

"Safe?" she snarled. The girl stood, pointing toward the unconscious Liara. "Does that look like this school is safe to you? If this place was safe, most anyone would have to worry about is a bit of bullying!" The girl was almost shouting, barely remembering the injured girl next to her. "If this place was safe, a troll wouldn't have gotten in and hurt Liara! If this place was safe, then Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have told everyone that they'd die painfully just by going up to the third-floor corridor on the left-hand side! This place isn't safe, and I'm done putting my safety and the safety of my friends in your hands!" She glared at the teachers, who at least had the sense to look ashamed of their failure to keep them safe.

She glared at the "adults" for several moments before sitting down again and taking Liara's hand, holding it gently between her own. She quickly tuned out the teachers talking to Ron and Hermione, noticing that the two kids didn't rat out the fact that the attack she had used had been made of black-red, chaotic energy, not emerald green smooth energy. She gave a tiny nod when Professor Sprout said she'd have some food brought to them, since Ron and Hermione were under medical surveillance and she had declined McGonagall's offer to escort her back to the common room.

Once the teachers had gone, Sprout heading to get some food for them and the rest heading to deal with their respective Houses, Morgana cursed. Internally, she cursed herself for not being fast enough to keep Liara from harm. She cursed herself for letting herself become weak. She had let herself believe that her war was over, that she could be a half-way normal girl for once. But Fate, as it seemed, had other ideas. Once again, she would have to push herself to the brink in order to protect her friends. To hunt down whoever was pulling the strings in the shadows. She swore to herself right then and there, watching Liara's chest rise and fall in slumber, that she'd defend her friends. And if she died to protect them, then so be it.


End file.
